The Archangel
by undecidedlycertain
Summary: NYC can be a scary place, especially in a world where Youkai and humans coexist. When known terrorist Naraku sets forth his plan to aquire the shikon, will Special Agent Sesshoumaru Takishima be able to stop him, or will he lose the woman he loves? S
1. Prelude to Madness

DISCLAIMER; Ok, so I'm only going to say it once, so you don't have to waste your time reading it every time and I don't get carpo tunnel from writing it repeatedly! I do not own Inuyasha. Ok, now that that's done…

AN: Yeah! Finally reposting this…

Summary; Sesshoumaru is the CIA's top anti-terrorism agent. When the terrorist known only as Naraku threatens New York with a virus capable of wiping out millions of lives, Sesshoumaru is put on the case to destroy the virus before it can be released, but when Kagome dragged into the whole mess will he be able to save her or will he lose the only woman he's ever loved.

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**The Archangel**

_  
By: Undecidedlycertain_

**  
Chapter One**

_Prelude to Madness_

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**  
New York City; Upper East Side Manhattan **

Friday June 17th , 7:35 pm Eastern Pacific Time

Sesshoumaru Takishima trudged through the lobby of his apartment building in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, a black leather Samsonite suitcase clutched in one hand and his black suit jacket thrown carelessly over the other.

The swank marbled and gilded lobby was as posh and decadent as they come and it shone as brightly as the day it was built, yet he felt unimpressed by its flashy opulence, moving with single-minded determination toward the elevator.

Perhaps he had been around such elegance for far too long, or perhaps he was just jaded, but the prestige and glamour of New York no longer impressed him. He was just glad to be home.

After three straight weeks of 'business meetings' in Moscow, all he wanted to do was sit on his own couch, eat at his own table, and sleep in his own bed.

Stepping through the flawlessly polished elevator doors, he pressed the button for his floor, the 18th, and settled himself against the back wall allowing his eyes to close. Soft music floated around him, an orchestrated version of some eighty's love song. Not something he would necessarily choose to listen to, but not entirely horrendous.

With a soft ping the doors slid open to reveal a plushly carpeted hall. Simple, but elegant décor accented the cream colored walls, the shining brass of the door numbers glowed warmly in the light given off by the fluted wall sconces mounted between each pair of doors.

Sesshoumaru's apartment was at the end of the hall. It wasn't a pent house, nor was it huge, but it suited his needs, and had a wonderful view of central park from the balcony, a view that he paid dearly for if he might add.

As soon as he opened the door he was assaulted with the tantalizing aroma of simmering alfredo sauce and roasted garlic. He dropped his bags by the door, pulling his tie off as he headed toward the kitchen.

A soft feminine voice was humming a familiar tune while stirring a large pot of sauce simmering on the stove. Her long black hair hung in soft waves down her back stopping in a gentle V at the waist band of her short navy skirt.

The sight of her long creamy legs was more appetizing than the promise of a home cooked meal, the gentle curves sloping down to her delicate ankles and bare feet as she stood on her toes reaching for the salt on the shelf above her head. Three weeks away was entirely too long.

She pulled open the oven, bending over to pull out the pan of bread with a potholder, the soft curve of her rear making his mouth go dry. God, how could one woman be so enticing, even after all this time. He desired her more now than he had the first time he met her.

She placed the bread on the stove top and turned around to head into the dining room when she saw him standing in the door way.

"Ee-ah!" She yipped, startled by his silent appearance in the doorway. She was quick to regain herself though, a slow smile spreading across her face a split second before she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her tightly in return, burying his face in her soft hair, deeply taking in her scent. She always smelled so good, like wild flowers.

"I missed you Sesshou." She whispered into his chest, and he smiled, placing a soft kiss against the side of her neck, reveling in the way her breath hitched at the small action.

"Hmmm." He said placing more kisses up the slender column of her neck creating a moist trail to the sensitive point just below her ear. Her breath quickly became shallow, hands diving feverishly into the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

"Did you miss me?" She asked breathlessly, her voice breaking as he raked his teeth gently across her earlobe. She had probably intended to sound teasing, but it came out sounding serious and heavy with want. He suddenly found himself unbarably hard.

"You know I did Kagome." He whispered huskily in her ear.

Kagome sighed happily and gently pushed away from him with a contented smile. "I'm making fettuccini." She said with an almost child like giddiness.

"I noticed as soon as I opened the door." His eyes were heavily lidded, burning intensely with the need she (fostered) in him so easily, and she was trying to distract him with food.

But it was really, _really_ good food. He sighed, leaning his shoulder against the side of the refridgerator. It wasn't really fair of her, using his odd fetish for Italian food against him this way.

She turned to smile at him over her shoulder while prodding a pot of soaking noodles with a spoon, and he couldn't help but smile back as a warm feeling of contentment stole over him, easing the tension in his shoulders.

She was good to him, almost too good sometimes. That's why he felt so bad when he had to lie to her.

"There's also a surprise in the fridge for later." She said with forced casualness.

"Oh?"

She grinned excitedly. "Chocolate torte. You're favorite." Her took on a sultry curve, her lips shimmering temptingly with the cherry scented lip balm she liked so much. "You weren't here so I had to lick the spoon myself."

He reached out and pulled her roughly against him. Her breath caught, shuttered whispers of moist warmth teasing his neck, tempting his control.

"You are my favorite." He growled in her ear, reaching up with his free hand to gently tilt her face. With out hesitation he brought his face down to hers and sealed her mouth with his own.

Kagome rewarded him with a throaty moan, and he took the opportunity to delve into her, gently caressing the softness of her tongue with his own. He felt his senses come alive with the familiar taste of her mouth, her own natural flavor tinted slightly with the fruity wine she had been sipping on while cooking.

The kiss was slow and full of passion, a kiss of home coming and reconnection.

_Divine_ was the only coherent word running through his mind.

They pulled apart reluctantly when the pot on the stove began to bubble angrily. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, pulling her in for a bone crushing hug before finally letting her go. She giggled into the front of his white dress shirt, grabbing his hand and leading him to the dining room.

"Lets eat baby." She said pushing him down in his chair.

He pulled her down in his lap with a rakish grin. "My sentiments exactly."

"I meant the food." Kagome playfully poked him in the chest, her eyes widening with worry when he winced. "What's wrong?"

He smiled at her sincerity. "It's nothing. I slipped on some stairs and bruised a couple of ribs." Her soft mouth turned down into a gentle frown as she tenderly rubbed her hands over his chest.

"You should be more careful." She scolded gently.

_If she only knew_.

She managed to elude his hands with a placating peck to the tip of his nose, busying herself with filling their plates with the meal she had prepared, and filling their glasses with the bottle of merlot.

He watched he every movement with a detached sort of awe. Her movements were amazingly graceful considering the woman was one of the clumsiest people he had ever run across in his life. He met her nearly a year earlier through his brother, who worked with her at the Bentley Hotel on 62nd street, she as a concierge and he as the head of security.

Sesshoumaru had gone in to find his brother with news of their father's death only to be captivated with her sympathetic blue eyes and calming scent. He had not spent a day since with out thinking of her.

She finally agreed to move in with him three months ago. Unfortunately he had been so busy with work he had only been home one of those months collectively. She was an understanding woman though, patient and caring, and was always there to welcome him when he got home.

It meant more to him than he cared to admit.

She deserved better, she deserved the truth, but he couldn't stand the thought of letting her go. So he gave her as much as he could for now.

One day, he told himself, one day he was going to get her out of this city, build her a house with a huge back yard and a white picket fence and they would fill it with children. He would even get her the dog she had been longing for. They would live happily ever after.

_One day._

He watched her sit across from him at the table, smiling as she picked up her fork, idly swirling her food around, but not actually eating. She had a soft flush to her face, and even though she had probably spent the better part of the evening preparing his favorite dish, neither one of them were interested in eating right now.

"Kagome." his deep voice was husky with want, belaying his unspoken request. It was all she needed. With out another word both of them were up and moving.

Sesshoumaru scooped her up into his arms carrying her into the bedroom, mouths clashing in short, frantic kisses along the way. This was not going to be quite the romantic seduction he'd had in mind for tonight, they were both too far gone to have the patience.

He realized with some humor, tossing her onto the bed like a suitcase, that he was acting like a hormone driven teenager. He also realized that at the moment, he didn't care, especially Kagome giggled and reached for him as he kicked off his shoes and climbed on top of her.

This woman was amazing, so trusting, so willing. With just the slightest touch of his hands she would melt for him, she was his unquenchable thirst.

He began placing hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone and shoulders as he gently worked her out of her skirt, her soft whimpers setting his blood on fire as his arousal throbbed in anticipation.

Her hands were not idle. She made quick work of his shirt, her slender fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, careful not to put too much pressure on his bruised ribs. When she gently nipped his chin and bared her throat for him in a sign of submission, he nearly went mad.

He groaned a primitive form of her name as the urge to claim her fully made him see red. He had to clamp down on his instincts with iron-fisted control, he knew that was something he could not offer her yet. It was too risky.

Still, she never submitted so easily for him. He wondered vaguely what had gotten into her tonight. Perhaps she missed him as much as he missed her.

He began tugging at the buttons of her blouse as her hands worked almost frantically at his belt. He stilled her hands with a soft growl. Big blue eyes blinked up at him with an innocent embarrassment at her eagerness, but he nuzzled her cheek affectionately before whispering in her ear. " Don't rush this. We have all night."

He felt her nod, her soft hair brushing against his ear, and he turned to catch her mouth with his in a fervent kiss, pulling forth more of those delightful noises she made at the back of her throat.

Finally rid of her of her shirt, Kagome shivered. Sesshoumaru took in the warm flush to her pale skin, making an appreciative noise that had her head lolling and her back arching for him. Not one to disappoint, he began his descent to the soft, creamy swell of her breasts, barely covered by the sexy lace and ribbon of her bra. It was very unlike the more practical ones she normally wore, and he couldn't resist running his finger along the edge of the delicate material. He looked up into her face with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"For me?" he asked, inwardly laughing at her when she scrunched up her nose.

"Of course for you. Who else would it be for?"

"It better be no one." He said baring his fangs slightly. "I don't like to share."

Kagome smiled. "I know you don't." She pushed her hips up off the bed grinding against him. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as his body quivered with the sensations running through him, near violent urges to conquer and covet fiercely.

"What did I say about rushing?" He said, nipping at her neck.

"Three weeks is a long time Sesshou." She whispered apologetically and felt him smile against her neck. "I need you."

"My little nymphomaniac." he chuckled against her skin, making a long swipe with his tongue down toward the valley between her breasts.

"Hey." she huffed half heartedly. "You made me this way. I was a virgin before I met you, remember?"

"How could I forget."

"You are impossible." She quipped, softly running her fingernails over the flexing muscles of his back. "But I think that's why I love you."

"You think so?" He mumbled from where his face was nuzzling her chest.

She opened her mouth to respond when she was silenced by his capture of one of her sensitive nipples, teeth nipping gently through the lacy material covering her. She moaned in appreciation, arching up into him more fully.

Beep-Beep-Beep

Sesshoumaru continued to ravish her with his mouth, fully convincing himself that he did not just hear that.

Beep-Beep-Beep

He paused in his ministrations, causing Kagome to whimper in protest. "What's wrong Sesshou?"

Beep-Beep-Beep

"Damn it." He growled, pushing himself off her to grab his phone out of his bag in the other room.

"Can't you ignore it?" She pleaded softly.

Sesshoumaru gazed down at the woman who had captured him so fully. She was breathtaking: clad in only her lacy undergarments, her dark hair fanning out around he like a black sunburst against the white down comforter. What he wouldn't give right now to just be able to throw that phone off the balcony.

Beep-Beep-Beep

"You know I can't." He said penitently, sweeping her body one last time with his eyes before heading toward the incessant beeping. "Don't move." He ordered with a sexy flash of teeth before disappearing out the door.

Beep-Beep-Be…

"Yes." He snarled pulling the phone to his ear.

"Whoa, easy there big guy." A young male voice sounded in his ear. "I didn't interrupt anything important did I?"

"I have been away for three weeks Shippo, what do you think?" he snapped irately. He was in no mood for the boy's banter.

"Wow, then you're really not going to be happy with me."

Sesshoumaru put a hand over his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in anticipation of the tension that was sure to come. "What do you want?"

"We need you up here…now." Shippo said urgently.

"Did you not hear me when I said that I have just returned from a three week stay in Moscow?"

"I know I know, I'm sorry. You know we wouldn't call you unless it was an emergency."

"What is it?"

"It's a code red. I can't say anything else until you get here though."

Sesshoumaru sighed and slumped against the front door of the apartment. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Ok, and tell Kagome I said hi and sorry to drag you away like this. You should be able to go home tonight if it's any consolation."

"Not really." Sesshoumaru said gruffly before snapping the phone shut and clipping it to his belt. He took a deep breath trying to calm his raging blood. A code red couldn't be ignored no matter how badly he wanted to call the little fool back and tell him where they could shove it.

When he reentered the bedroom Kagome was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on top.

"You're leaving again aren't you?" She whispered dejectedly.

He nodded and silently picked up his shirt. He couldn't stand the hurt look in her eyes. "Shippo sends his regards."

Kagome nodded, but said nothing. Shippo was one of the few people he worked with that she had met. She watched with baleful eyes as he put his shoes on and finished buttoning his shirt.

He placed a lingering kiss on her lips. "I'll be home tonight." He said, resting his forehead against hers in a reassuring manner.

"Ok." She managed a small smile. "I just miss you."

He placed one last kiss on her lips, then headed out the door. This had better be important or someone was going to pay dearly for pulling him away from her tonight.

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**New York City; Financial District **

Friday, June 17th , 8:57 pm Eastern Pacific Time

From the outside the building didn't seem to have much to offer. Tadiama Investors was a small four story building of plain stature. Sesshoumaru walked up the cement stairs at the front of the building, swiping his security card to get through the door.

Inside was just as plain as the outside. A simple reception desk sat across from the front door, a few blasé leather couches sat in the lobby and a plain brushed steel elevator, which led both up stairs and down. The unadorned wood paneling on the walls was dark and out of style.

Behind the reception desk a bulky night guard sat watching the security monitors stationed out of sight behind the high counter. He nodded smartly at Sesshoumaru as he entered and murmured a tidy "Evening Mr. Takishima."

Sesshoumaru didn't bother to answer. He wanted this over as quickly as possible so he could return to Kagome. If she felt half as frustrated as he did she might have pulled her hair out by the time he got home. Or even worse, decided to finish with out him.

Striding over to the elevator with quick movements he pushed the button, stepping inside once the doors opened. When they closed behind him he moved quickly to the hidden panel at the back of the elevator. A six by six inch square in the dark paneling flipped open revealing a highly sensitive DNA scanner.

Sesshoumaru placed his hand to the scanner in a practiced motion, not even flinching at the sting as the cursory low-grade current ran through him. The back wall of the elevator slid open soundlessly, leading to another elevator.

The door slid shut behind him and the box began a quick decent. The bottom floor was nearly 100 feet below ground level, but he only needed to go down to sub-level three for now. The door opened soundlessly, its stop so smooth it was nearly undetectable, and Sesshoumaru found himself standing in the lobby for the CIA's largest anti-terrorism division in the world.

It was much less impressive as you might think, but he'd been doing this for a long time, now.

He quickly made his way through security, passing both DNA and retina scans. Once in, the operative scanned the room with highly irritated gold eyes that narrowed sharply when they landed on the young redheaded intelligence agent waiting for him.

"This had better be good Shippo." He warned dangerously, making the younger man swallow convulsively.

Shippo nodded and motioned for Sesshoumaru to follow him into a debriefing room to the right. Once inside, he found several of his fellow agents, all looking troubled, their features drawn taught in trepidation.

Shippo took a set next to Miroku Houshi, who's usually carefree face was twisted into an angry grimace, and, surprisingly enough, he was keeping his hands to himself despite the fact that Agent Tayjia was sitting right next to him. Agent Koga Wolfe was sitting across from him with his face in his hands and Agent Ayami Palmer was staring so hard at the table in front of her that he would not have been surprised if it suddenly burst into flames.

"What's going on?" He demanded as Senior Agent Kaede Knight strode into the room from the opposite door.

"It's Naraku." She said gravely. "He's threatening the city if we do not hand over the Shikon no Tama."

"And just what is he threatening the city with."

"A virus capable of taking out half the city with in two days of its release. He's calling it The Archangel."

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AN: revised 2/15/07

R&R!!! Its the only paycheck we authors get!


	2. Propositions in shades of blue

**The Archangel**

By;_ UndecidedlyCertain_

**Chapter Two**

_Propositions in shades of blue_

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Sesshoumaru dropped back into his chair at the head of the table and stared up unseeingly at the perforated tile ceiling of the debriefing room. This was far worse than he'd suspected, even for a code red this was a serious threat, especially from Naraku.

There are many types of terrorists in this world; fanatical zealots fighting and killing for a cause no matter how ridiculous, avaricious individuals with the ways and means to procure what ever monetary prize they sought, and even those in favor of certain aspects of genocide. Sesshoumaru had dealt with them all.

Naraku however was in another category all together. The man, who's face had never been seen and true name remained undisclosed, seemed to thrive on the pain and misery of others, carrying out random acts of terror for the sheer thrill of it. The man had been wreaking havoc on the free world for the last ten years and Sesshoumaru himself had been after him for six of those years.

His activities had been oddly quiet the last three years, and now it was obvious what he had been up to. If it was true and he really did have a virus that dangerous he wouldn't hesitate to release it in the population if his demands weren't met. Hell, Sesshoumaru wouldn't put it past the crazy bastard to drop it even if his demands were met.

Chaos would ensue, especially if there is no record of this virus in medical data bases. It could take months to come up with a cure, by then half of the country could be infected.

His request was odd, though not completely surprising. The Shikon no Tama, a mystical jewel foretold of in legends. As far as Sesshoumaru was concerned it was more of a historical artifact than anything else, but then again he didn't really know anything about it. If Naraku wanted it though then he must have some use for it, meaning that he most assuredly should not get his hands on it.

A biological attack on New York City could be devastating though. This was going to be a tough assignment, but he was ready to take Naraku down once and for all.

With a determined look on his face he snapped his attention back to Kaede, all of his colleagues letting out a sigh of relief. If Sesshoumaru looked confident about it then there was no need to worry.

"What do we know?" He demanded, still leaning back slightly in his chair.

"Not much unfortunately." Kaede said grimly, pulling her lap top out and hooking it up to the power point projector. A blank screen lowered from the ceiling before Kaede flashed the first screen, an image of Naraku in the only form he ever appeared in.

He always wore the same disgusting baboon pelt when ever he made any kind of public appearance. Most likely to disguise both his scent and his identity making it impossible to determine whether he was youkai or human.

"At exactly 1800 hours today, June 17 2004, Central Intelligence received a communiqué via redirected satellites from Naraku himself demanding the Shikon no Tama by the end of the week. If not received he will release the Archangel into the population.

"The only things we know about the Archangel is that it is a degenerative virus that attacks the central nervous system, systematically shutting down the bodies systems one by one until the host dies. From what we have gathered death usually occurs between 72 and 84 hours of contamination."

Several pictures flashed on the over head, all of people in different stages in the viruses attack to their bodies. In the earliest stage the people seemed really pale and sickly with sallow skin and dark circles under their eyes.

The next set of pictures were a bit more gruesome, the victims skin having large black spots upon it where capillaries were bursting just beneath the skin and they had taken on a yellowish jaundiced look from the obvious lack of liver function.

The last set however were enough to make even Sesshoumaru's iron stomach churn. The victims could no longer be distinguishable as male or female, the skin gray with dark spots hanging off the bones, all the hair having fallen out, and the eye sockets shrunken and bulging. They looked like vacuum packed, diseased skeletons. Like corpses that had decomposed in water.

A muffled gasp sounded to his left and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Ayami had turned away. By some force of morbid fascination though he was unable to turn away. If this got into the populous it could…he didn't even want to think about that.

"Is it homo-sapien genus?" Sesshoumaru spoke up, no one else seemed capable of speech at the moment.

"No, it affects both Youkai and Humans alike. That's part of what makes it so dangerous." A picture of a vile, obviously a zoom in on a picture of Naraku, was shown. It had a sickly purplish-green tint and almost seemed to be bubbling of its own accord. "The virus itself is dormant in its natural element. It requires a host to become harmful, a homo-genus host. Human or demon matters not, but once the virus has incubated for 48 hours it becomes airborne and will spread like wild fire through the populous."

Everyone sat quietly as the last picture was shown, one of the Shikon no tama. "What do we know of this jewel that he wants?" Koga Wolfe asked.

Kaede's mouth set in a firm line, clearly revealing the graveness of the situation. "Not enough I am afraid to say. There are legends, but that's not really much to go on. What we know for certain is that it disappeared over 500 years ago and reappeared 23 years ago in the body of a miko-born baby girl. They could feel the power radiating off the child in spades and the jewel was removed and put in quarantine. It is not known exactly what the jewel can do but it is enormously powerful and in the hands of a mad man such as Naraku there's no telling how much damage it could do."

Sesshoumaru's mind was drifting to a beautiful porcelain face with ice blue eyes and hair as dark and soft as a ravens feather. 'Kagome.' He thought darkly, he would not allow her to be hurt. He would stop Naraku if it was the last thing he did.

"Our best bet is going to be to destroy the Archangel before Naraku can inject a host. Do we have any clues on the whereabouts of his laboratories?" Sesshoumaru asked forebodingly.

Kaede sent a look to Shippo, who promptly stepped up to the computer. He punched a few keys, changing the gruesome slide show to a series of aerials, floor plans, and thermo scans of a building Sesshoumaru recognized immediately as the Onigumo Suites Grand Hotel, only a few blocks from his current location.

Onigumo Hashinuba had been a suspected consort of Naraku for years, but they had never been able to pin anything solid on the man. His legal façade was as clean as they come and his political status did nothing but uphold his favorable public opinion. It didn't fool Sesshoumaru though, the man was dirty.

"This is the Onigumo Suites here in New York." Shippo said pointing to the picture of the outside of the building. The picture flashed to a copy of the official blue prints of the building. It was a huge thirty story hotel complete with a grand ball room, five star restaurant, full treatment spa, and a small garden created in the central courtyard of the building. "These are the official blue prints on file with the city."

He made a few more strokes on the keypad and another scan came up, this one an aerial topographical shot. "This is a picture we got from satellites." With a few more swipes across the keyboard the image began to move as image digitally began to shift showing a 3D layout for the building. "Noticing anything a bit unusual?" Shippo encouraged.

Sesshoumaru scanned the image, his keen eyes quickly picking up on the difference between their shot and the official blue prints. "There are more levels unaccounted for beneath the basement on sublevel 2." He said mostly for his own pondering than for the rest.

"That's not all." Shippo said getting a predatory glint in his eyes. This is what the young red headed agent lived for. Extracting information such as this and pulling operations apart from the inside out. Another layout of the building flashed up, this one shaded with different colors. Obviously the thermo scan.

"Notice that the first two of these sub levels are warmer than what would be considered normal for a storage basement, not to mention the amount of body heat readings we got from those two levels." He pulled a pointer from his pocket jabbing it at the white shaded area at the last unaccounted for sublevel. "This is the one that interests me though. The scan showed a large area of sub-freezing temperatures in this last level that could only be accounted for by the presence of a large sub-zero cold storage unit…"

"Just like the ones used in highly volatile bio labs." Sesshoumaru finished for him, a spark lighting his eyes.

"Precisely." Shippo said with a grin.

"Tomorrow night Onigumo is holding a charity ball. It is our best chance at getting in and destroying the virus before he can inject a host. Sesshoumaru will pull point, Sango will be backup. Miroku, Koga, and Ayami will be on guard while Shippo pulls Intel at the check point." Kaede announced firmly. "We can not risk this getting out in the populous, nor can we allow Naraku to get his hands on the Shikon."

There were general nods and murmurs of agreement across the room. Sesshoumaru remained silent, his game face was already set. He was ready to take Naraku out for good.

"Good, now get some rest. We reconvene tomorrow at ten am sharp."

With the meeting adjourned Sesshoumaru rose out of his chair to head home. He was tired, he was frustrated (in more ways than one), and he had once again had to leave Kagome alone.

'Kagome.' God, what if something went wrong and he couldn't destroy the virus in time? He made up his mind to talk to her when he got home about going to her mothers in Michigan for a couple of weeks. He was certain Mrs. Higurashi would be delighted to have her daughter home for a while, getting Kagome to agree was going to be the tough part.

He was tired of this. All of it, the missions, the danger, the challenge. He had scoffed when his brother retired three years ago, but he was starting to think that maybe Inuyasha had the right idea all along.

"Hey Sesshoumaru, you ok?" Sango asked coming out behind him, Miroku right behind her as usual. Sesshoumaru had to forcibly stop himself from rolling his eyes at Agent Houshi, he looked like a lost puppy.

Sesshoumaru turned his attention to Sango, figuring if he didn't give her some semblance of an answer she would hound him until he did. " I think this is going to be my last mission." He stated blandly turning to walk away, completely ignoring the shocked looks on the faces of his colleagues.

He didn't dare call them friends. No, friends were people you depended on and he, Sesshoumaru Takishima, depended on no one. Dependence led to weakness and he would never allow himself to go down that path. He'd seen too many people die that way. He watched his own back and was still alive today because of it.

Sure he had Kagome, but that was a different case entirely. She depended on him, not the other way around and that made all the difference in the world.

Tiredly he climbed back on his sleek BMW R1200 GS street bike, forgoing his helmet opting for the wind blowing through his hair instead. He had a lot on his mind tonight and a good ride help to clear his head. He drove through the city, the lights and signs dampening the beauty of the night as the wind whipped through his short pale hair.

Times like these he missed his long hair, but he had to do it, it just made him stand out even more and that was frowned upon in his line of work. The cool night air whipped around him in a frenzy dulling the sights, sounds, and thankfully smells to mere approximations of what they truly were. Even though he had lived in the city for many years now the smell was still enough to nauseate him at times.

Truth be told he was tired of this life. He longed for something simpler, something more meaningful. Not to say that his work didn't bring a sense of pride, but he just felt as if he was missing out on something. He could just vaguely remember the old days, when he and Inuyasha were children and they would take day trips to their summer cottage on the coast of Connecticut.

They spent long days out in the sun wrestling with their father on the sand while their mother watched happily from her beach chair. Well, Inuyasha's mother, his step-mother, but she had always treated them the same. Then they would build a campfire right there on the sand when it got dark and roast marshmallows and tell stories.

Those days were long gone. After their mother died when he was ten and Inuyasha eight his father seemed to lose the will to live, throwing himself into his work. He remained aloof and estranged from his sons until the day he died a little over a year ago leaving them with a outlandish amount of money and a handful of bitter memories.

That was most definitely not what he wanted, to become like him. Estranged and so engulfed in my work that by the time he died no one even knows who he really was any more. And all over a woman, that's what happens when you allow yourself to depend on someone other than yourself.

'Kagome.' He softened at the thought of the blue eyed beauty who was at this moment most likely snuggled in their bed awaiting his return. With a heady sigh he turned the bike toward home. First things first, take care of Naraku, then he would worry about the minor details of his inner turmoil.

* * *

**New York City; Upper East Manhattan**

**Saturday, June 18, 5:20 am Eastern Pacific Time**

Quietly as he could he stepped into the darkened apartment. All was quiet and he noticed that all of the dinner mess had been cleaned up. With a sigh he headed to the kitchen only to find a note taped to the refrigerator.

Sesshou,

I made you a plate, its in the fridge if you are hungry. Just nuke it for two minutes or so, it's not as good as it was a couple of hours ago, but it should still be acceptable for your highness. Meet me in bed when your done.

I love you,

Kagome.

He smirked at her little nick name for him. She had dubbed him 'your highness' after just two weeks of dating. She found his particularities amusing. What can a man say when he knows what he likes and refuses to settle for less?

Shooting a tentative glance at the digital clock on the microwave trying to decide whether or not to bother with eating and groaned when the green digital numbers read 5:35 am.

There was no point in eating right now, it was almost time for breakfast. He kicked off his shoes as he passed the front door and pulled his shirt from his pants and began to unbutton it as he made his way into the dark bedroom.

A soft, flickering glow washed over the bedside spilling warm yellow light over the sleeping woman clad only in her bra and panties, complete with garter belt and thigh highs. A smile spread across his face at the sight, she was so beautiful and so innocent lying there, her dark hair spilling across the pillow and one delicate hand curled under her chin. Her soft lips were slightly parted and her eyelids fluttered slightly with the passing of her dreams.

He frowned disapprovingly at the candle she had left burning on the bedside, hoping sincerely that she didn't do things like that when he was away. Not wanting to disturb her by pulling the blankets out from under her he simply draped her robe over her and blew out the candle that had melted to a nub.

With a small smile he brushed her bangs out of her face. Before she came into his life he had been miserable and didn't even know it. She changed his life in so many ways, and all for the better. Before her he had been content in burying himself in his work, not caring about anything else or anyone else.

His work was his life, but slowly over the past year something had changed. The realization hit him with enough force to give him pause. His work with the agency didn't matter so much any more. She was his life. Even though he didn't say it much, he loved this woman more than life its self.

He loved her. Yes.

Needed her. No.

No matter how many times he said it he knew he was lying to himself and doing a damn pitiful job of it too. He needed this woman as much as he needed to breathe, a realization that would bring the foundations of stone he'd built so strongly around him crumbling to the ground.

He silently padded into the living room with determination etched onto his every feature. He was going to make it up to her, all the missed dinners, all the out of town 'meetings', everything.

On the wall behind the modern style couch beige couch in the living room was a large print of Van Gogh's 'Pavement Café'. He smiled at the painting. Kagome had bought that for him their first Christmas together to replace, in her words 'the horrendous Dog picture'.

He had to laugh at the thought. They argued over that picture more than anything else in the house. It was actually a print of Cassius Coolidge's painting 'A Bachelor's Dog' depicting a large collie lounging in a chair with a cigar and a news paper.

Sesshoumaru had always been fond of the absurd thing for some reason or other and Kagome insisted that it was the kind of thing you hang in a men's parlor or study, not in the living room. Of course she won out, when they hung the new print, Sesshoumaru's painting got moved to his study.

With a flick of his wrist Sesshoumaru swung the painting open revealing a small combination safe built into the wall. Quickly spinning the dial, he pulled the heavy 12 inch by 12 inch door open and pulled out a small gray velour box.

After closing the safe and returning the picture to its original place he headed out on the balcony. It was always peaceful this time in the morning and he could watch the sunrise over central park.

Leaning over the rail, he flipped the lid of the little velvet covered box peering down at an object he hadn't had the heart to look at in nearly 15 years. Set in a delicate platinum band was a small but beautiful princess cut diamond. Flanking the ½ karat diamond on either side were a small row of marquee cut sapphires, almost the exact color of Kagome's eyes.

It was his mothers ring. She gave it to him before she died with hopes that he would one day be able to give it to the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Just as the sun began to peek over the eastern horizon he heard the soft swish of silk and muffled padding of feet on carpet. He snapped the case shut and quickly slipped it into the pockets of his slacks.

A baby blue silk covered arm wound around his torso as the sweet scent of wild flowers invaded his olfactory system, like a delicate rose blooming on the pile of refuse that was this city. He felt her soft cheek press gently against his back as she stifled a yawn with her free hand.

"Did you get everything taken care of at the office?" She asked sleepily as she wound her other arm around his waist and held him tight.

"For now." He said after a pause. "The problem was bigger than anticipated."

"I'm sorry." She said giving him a gentle squeeze. "I know you're tired from your trip."

He smiled despite the darkness that thoughts about the 'problem' had stirred. She was so unselfish. He knew for a fact that any other woman would be out right throwing tantrums at his constant absences by now. Not Kagome though, never Kagome.

Turning in her arms, Sesshoumaru returned her embrace and held her tight, pressing his nose into her hair.

She sighed happily. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

He didn't respond, just held her closer not wanting to say what he was about to have to ask of her.

"Kagome, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do silly, what kind of question is that?" She asked, her soft voice muffled against the fabric of his soft dress shirt.

"I need you to do something for me, and you cant ask any questions."

Sobered a bit by the seriousness in his tone, Kagome looked up at him. "What's wrong Sesshou?"

He simple shook his head. "I need you to go stay with your mother for a while."

"Why? What's going on?" She asked concerned.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, but I don't understand…" He gently placed a clawed finger to her soft lips.

"Then do this for me."

She stared up at him for a moment, searching his face for deception before she nodded slowly. "Ok, for how long?"

"Two weeks tops. If all goes well you can come home by the end of the week."

She gave him a quizzical look but made no move to question him further, to which he was grateful.

"When should I leave?"

"As soon as possible."

Kagome frowned a little at this but still made no move to question him. "Well, I'll have to go in to work today and let them know I'll be out for a while, but I should be able to leave tonight. Mama will be thrilled."

Sesshoumaru smirked at her. "I'm sure."

Her fingers that had been idly spread on his chest began tracing small patterns across the clothed skin, sending small shivers up his spine. He raised an eyebrow at her antics. He had expected her to be angry with him, not trying to arouse him.

"You know." she started not quite able to look him in the eye in a way that he found irresistibly endearing. Even after all they had been through she still couldn't come on to him with out blushing like a school girl. "I don't have to be at work until 9, and it's only 6:30 now…." She let her sentence trail off seductively before flashing him a shy grin. "Two more weeks is an awful long time…"

He didn't need anymore prompting than that. Actually, he didn't need any prompting at all, but he liked to watch her squirm a little. Moving faster than anyone should be able to at such an ungodly hour of morning he scoped her up in his arms and whisked her off to the bedroom.

An hour and two rounds later both lay spent and panting in each others arms. A contented smile graced Kagome's soft, slightly swollen lips as she adjusted her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell from her still slightly ragged breathing that she was not asleep.

"I'm going to miss you." She said softly, turning her head to place butterfly kisses across his shoulder. He smiled contentedly and reached over the side of the bed for his pants. "What are you doing Sesshou?" Kagome asked curiously cracking one eye open to look at him.

He pulled the little box from his pocket and watched in amusement as her eyes widened to the size of half dollars. With the grace that only he seemed to possess he flipped the box open revealing the ring within.

"What would you say to moving to Connecticut with me? We'll buy a little cottage by the sea and make love all day long." He smirked when a light blush stained her cheeks.

"Sesshou…what are you..?" She choked out, tears starting to fill her eyes.

"Marry me Kagome."

The tears welling in her eyes began to stream down her face as she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, oh god yes!"

He chuckled a little bit as he slipped the ring on her finger. "Weren't you saying the same thing just a few minutes ago?" He teased lightly.

She blushed crimson and slapped him lightly on the chest. "You're awful."

"That's not what it sounded like to me."

"Sesshou!" She cried indignantly as she climbed out of bed, though the humor in her eyes was sparkling like the sun.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"To take a shower. I do have to pack you know."

He nodded and rested back on his pillows a happy man. Once this was over he would do just as he said. He would marry her and take her away from all this. Away from the city, away from her horrible job at the Bentley, and most of all away from the CIA.


	3. The Calm Before The Storm

**The Archangel**

_By; Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter 3**

_The Calm Before the Storm_

* * *

**New York City; 37 East 64th ST.  
Hotel Athenee Plaza, Room 346  
Saturday June 18th, 6:37 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

The mark was set, the check point was designated, the players were in position, and the game was on. Sesshoumaru waited with the others at the check point, the Hotel Athenee Plaza, Room 364, as the time approached for them to begin the operation. Shippo was calling it Operation Fallen Angel.

The charity ball at the Onigumo Grand Hotel and Suites was set to begin at seven pm. Shippo was staying at the checkpoint to watch the cameras, both the security camera's he'd tapped into from the Hotel and the concealed cameras the operatives themselves would be wearing.

Miroku was already in position as nameless security lackey number 22. Koga and Ayami were set to move in as soon as the party begins under the surname Perkins. Sango and himself were to arrive at precisely 7:20 as Dr. And Mrs. Michael Himura.

It wasn't a total lie, technically he did have a doctorate, just not in medicine.

He was fully outfitted tonight. He wore a chameleon suit, or 'invisibility suit' as Shippo liked to call it ,under his custom tailored Armani tuxedo. The suit was an ingenious design with micro fibers completely fitted with special fiber optics that changed color to blend seamlessly with what ever back round it is in contact with.

The regulator chip firmly implanted at the back of his neck worked both as a untraceable locator and suppressor for his Youki and scent. Shippo, being the technical genius that he was, altered theirs so that it could create changes in appearance as well, sort of a glamour effect if you will. That particular invention made it possible for Youkai to work for the agency, making them nearly undetectable, untraceable, and unidentifiable.

Unfortunately it worked on both sides. And the black market was always no more than a half step behind.

As Dr. Himura, Sesshoumaru had black hair in place of the distinctive silvery white and blue eyes in place of amber. His markings had been permanently repressed when he joined the agency, a fact his father was not at all pleased about, but they made it too easy to identify him.

He had gotten the 'you're forsaking your heritage' speech for that one. Heritage, yes it was definitely something to be proud of, but in today's society heritage doesn't have as much pull as it did in 'the old days'. A man who comes from a line of kings can be deemed no more worthy than a man who comes from nothing.

Looking out upon the New York sky line at night was always something he found calming. It gave a feeling of detachment from the hustle and bustle of life below, people racing through the streets, rushing through their lives forgetting to stop and look at what they're really doing. Such a menial rat race, one day you wake up and life is almost over and you realize that nothing you've accomplished in life really mattered in the grander scheme of things.

He saw Shippo's approach in the dark reflective surface of the window. The red head had a look of nervous excitement dancing in his forest green eyes and a small black case in his hands. The young man fidgeted, shifting his weight back and forth before pushing his shaggy bangs out of his face in a nervous gesture.

As many times as they ran operations together the boy still seemed nervous to approach him at times. Just as well, Sesshoumaru found his nervousness amusing.

"Um, Sesshoumaru…" Shippo said quietly, not wanting to interrupt his preparation. Lots of agents used the time before an operation to prepare themselves mentally. Not only did they have to test the limits of their mental and physical capacities, but also their acting abilities. If they were discovered the whole operation was blown.

"Yes." He answered, not bothering to turn from his position.

"I have some things for you." Shippo said holding up the box, knowing he was being watched through the reflection.

Sesshoumaru turned silently toward him, waiting for him to pull out the technical implements. This really was his favorite part of the job. Shippo always did come up with the most interesting gadgets.

A wide grin broke out on the young mans face as he opened the black case. It was obviously something good, he was acting like a giddy young school girl.

"Just wait till you see what I've got for you." He said setting the box down on a nearby table and removing several items, the majority of them no larger than a dime in size. The first thing he handed him was a set of cufflinks. Sesshoumaru took them graciously, replacing the ones he already wore. "These are filled with a harmless yet powerful sleeping gas. Just press the little diamond in the middle and it will release."

"And just how am I supposed to complete the mission if I am knocked out?" Sesshoumaru queried blandly while straightening the cuffs of his shirt.

"Oh, not a problem." Shippo piped cheerily pulling a syringe from the case and squirting out a bit and flicking the end of the needle. "This will make you immune to the gas for the next twenty-four hours."

Sesshoumaru grimaced, but took the syringe regardless, administering the shot in his forearm. While he was straightening his jacket Shippo began pulling out more 'goodies'.

"Ok, this is your camera." He said pulling out a small white case. Inside was a clear contact lens. Sesshoumaru took it out, silently marveling at the technology that could fit a camera on a film of plastic just fractions of a millimeter thick.

"Pretty cool huh?!" Shippo asked excitedly. Sesshoumaru fixed him with a bored look while popping the camera into his eye. He knew he shouldn't be giving the poor kid such a hard time, but just couldn't bring himself to be excited by any of this anymore.

"uh, yeah…well here." Shippo handed him a small piece of metal that looked remarkably like a piece of dental work.

Sesshoumaru took the piece, immediately recognizing it as a crown fitting. Most likely his microphone.

"That's our audio." Shippo explained as Sesshoumaru fit the piece over one of his molars, adjusting it with his tongue until it felt secure. "Here's your check book Dr. Himura." He handed him a black leather case with all of 'Dr. Himura's' identification, credit cards, auto insurance, and, of course, checks.

"These are really cool." Shippo said flipping to the back of the book of checks. At the very back of the book were two checks in a different color than the others. "These are your plastic explosives. Very simple to activate, just fold the check in half and stick it to what ever you want to blow, but be careful they are very potent and very loud. Not the best choice for digression."

Sesshoumaru nodded, tucking the check book into his jacket pocket. Shippo then handed him a pen. "Let me guess," Sesshoumaru balked at the unoriginality, "this is my fire arm?"

"No." Shippo retorted, "This is your pen. This is your gun." He pulled out a small black 9mm. "It's completely made of plastic, undetectable in scans and equipped with miko tipped bullets strong enough to take out a Tai."

Miko tipped bullets were a difficult commodity to come across, even for the CIA. They were dangerous for a Youkai to even handle, but once they were in the gun they were moderately safe. Of course there was always the risk of the Youki in the air getting too thick and activating one of the purifying projectiles.

"Very nice." Sesshoumaru commented, making the young mans chest puff up with pride.

"Ok," Shippo said confidently, "last but not least." He pulled out a cell phone, a sleek, silver, flip style. "This is your all in one lock pick, combination decipherer, and security code by-passer." He demonstrated how to open the compartment on the back and release the cord that could plug into any electronic lock or security system. " You just plug this into the panel and I can by pass it from here. And if you pull the antenna out completely it doubles as a lock pick. Very primitive, but its better to be safe than sorry."

Sesshoumaru nodded stiffly and turned back toward the window. With cameras, mic's and fire power in place all that was left to do was wait.

* * *

**New York City, 500 East 62nd Street  
Bentley Hotel, Lobby  
Saturday, June 18th 4:55 pm**

"Bentley Hotel, Kagome Higurashi speaking how can I help you?….Yes, hold please."

Kagome tiredly drummed her nails against the marbled counter top of the front desk, her eyes continually being drawn to the ring on her left hand. It was truly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She knew Sesshou had good taste, but this was truly immedicable.

"Quit your daydreaming wench!" The gruff voice startled her out of her day dreaming. She smiled at the young man leaning casually against the counter giving her a playful scowl. He looked so much like his brother, just a little more rag-tag and rough around the edges.

"Hey Inuyasha."

"What's got your head in the clouds today?" His voice was gruff and would sound irritated to the untrained ear, but Kagome knew better.

"Hm? Oh nothing much. Your brother just proposed to me this morning." She said it as if she were talking about drinking a particularly good cup of coffee, waiting with baited breath for the outburst that was sure to come.

"HE WHAT?!"

"You heard me." She commented again, this time barely able to contain her smile.

He reached across the counter, snatching up her hand and looking at the ring with an almost awed expression. "I never thought I'd see the day…" he commented to himself. "That bastard better not hurt you." He said with a smile. Kagome figured that was about as close to a blessing as she was going to get with Inuyasha. He never was one for cordialities.

"WHAT DID I JUST HEAR?" Came the shrill shriek of the harpy, other wise known as Kagome's friend Eri.

Inuyasha shuddered and tried to quietly flee before Eri could get her talons into him, but Kagome grabbed his sleeve effectively preventing his escape and earning herself a glare. Eri had a bit of a crush on Inuyasha and she was a little extreme in her attentions. Kagome couldn't help but laugh at his discomfort.

"Oh, it was nothing really…" Kagome started, not ready to spread the good news quite yet. She liked Eri and all, but she hadn't even told her mother yet.

Inuyasha saw the opportunity for retribution and greedily grabbed at it shamelessly, a cocky 'I'll teach you' smirk firmly in place. "Don't be so modest Kagome, why she was just telling my about how my bastard…"

"He's not a bastard Inuyasha." Kagome interjected with a heavy sigh.

"…brother proposed to her this morning." Triumph was written all over his face in smug proportions while painful death was promised in her eyes.

"Oh my GOD!" Eri squealed making Kagome cringe and Inuyasha's ears flatten against his head. He took the opportunity to extricate himself from Kagome's death grip and back away from the vapid, squealing female while her attention was still trained elsewhere.

Kagome sent him a nasty glare and mouthed 'Thanks a lot' to which he promptly returned with 'anytime' before he turned the corner and disappeared like hell itself was nipping at his heels.

"Is that your ring? Oh its GORGEOUS! How did he ask you? Did he get on one knee? Where were you? Did he take you out to dinner first? Was it romantic? Oh, I bet it was. He is so hot Kagome, you are so lucky! We have to go out and celebrate tonight!"

"I don't know Eri." Kagome started apologetically, she vaguely wondered how the poor girl didn't pass out from lack of oxygen after that. "I'm supposed to leave for my mom's as soon as I get off."

"Oh come on. How long has it been since you've gone out with just us girls? I'll call Yuka and Ami, it'll be just like old times!"

Kagome still looked hesitant, so in a last ditch effort Eri threw all her cards out on the table. "Look, we'll go early. At six or so then you can still leave for your moms before too late."

Kagome felt the strong urge to decline. Sesshoumaru had been very specific in wanting her to leave as early as possible, and even though it was a strange request he had been so earnest about it. He wouldn't have asked something like that of her if it weren't important.

Of course one look at Eri's sad puppy eyes and all of her resolution flew right out the window.

"Oh, alright. But just one drink, ok."

* * *

**New York City, 43 East 64th Street  
Onigumo Grand Hotel and Suites  
Saturday, June 18th , 7:21 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

"Dr. and Mrs. Himura." Sesshoumaru told the man at the door who in turn checked the guest list, pausing when he found the names.

"Enjoy your evening Dr. Himura, Mrs. Himura." He said with a polite nod of his head.

He strode in casually, with an air of confidence found only in the extremely rich and powerful. Sango held lightly to his arm, her fingers twitching a bit, though her face showed non of her discomfort. For all the world to see she was the beautiful smiling wife of a rich doctor from Chicago. On the inside she was a nervous wreck.

Sesshoumaru gave her a plastic smile and a pat on the hand as he expertly guided them through the throng of mingling socialites, grabbing a crystal goblet of champagne here only to set it right back down on the next passing tray. They introduced themselves to several people, mostly politicians, making menial conversation before moving on.

As they approached an older gentleman and his wife Shippo spoke in his ear piece. "That's Charles Tinsley, Republican hopeful for the senate and Onigumo's major backer for Mayor.

"Ah, Mr. Tinsley." Sesshoumaru's velvet tones rang out like church bells, soothing and seductive even to the most seasoned of celebrities. "Just the man I was looking to meet."

"Why hello, and you are?" Mr. Tinsley extended his hand in greeting after switching his goblet to his left hand.

"Michael Himura, Dr. Michael Himura and my wife Christina." He said shaking the mans hand. Tinsley had a good hand shake, strong grip but not over compensating, brief but not rude. You can tell a lot about a person by their hand shake. "I have heard good things about you sir."

"Well thank-you. It's always nice to hear the good things, especially when all the press seems to be interested in these days is the doom and gloom."

"I fully agree." A new voice joined the exchange, this one lacking the warmth of the previous two.

"Ah, Dr. Himura. Have you met Onigumo Hashinuba?" Mr. Tinsley introduced.

"No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure." Sesshoumaru said smoothly, his even demeanor never once slipping even though his instincts were telling him to rip the slimy bastards throat out. If they could prove that he had a chem. Lab in the sub basement of his hotel they could finally put him away.

Onigumo stared at Sesshoumaru with intense interest before turning to Sango. "And who is this beautiful young lady? I do hope she is available."

"My wife, Christina."

"What a shame." Onigumo tsked raking Sango's body with his eyes slowly. "Well, if you will excuse me." He said before taking his leaves. During the entire exchange Sango's fingers were tightening around his arm to an almost painful force.

"What a creep." Shippo's voice sounded in the earpiece.

"When this is over, I get to take him out." Miroku's voice came across the mic. He did not sound happy.

Sesshoumaru simply nodded and patted Sango's hand lightly before moving into position. "Let's get this over with."

"Right." Shippo said. "Ok, make your way to the back entrance, from there you can cut through the kitchens to the cargo elevator. Your best bet is going to be getting into the elevator shaft and going down from there."

Getting through the kitchens was easy enough, despite the fact that it was crawling with workers. They all seemed so focused on what they were doing that they didn't even notice them passing through.

The hallway leading past the freight elevator was dark and deserted, almost making it too easy.

"You've got incoming. One guard, looks like he's just making rounds though." Shippo's warning came not a moment too soon.

Sesshoumaru quickly grabbed Sango and sunk back behind a crate in a shadowy recess making them all but invisible. The guard passed quickly, not even looking their direction. Sesshoumaru decided now was as good a time as ever to shed his Armani skin.

He stripped down to his Chameleon suit, storing his Armani behind the crate. Sango stopped him before he left for the elevator.

"Don't fail." She said simply.

He nodded smartly and when Shippo gave the all clear on the security cameras he moved out. He pulled the mask over his face as the Chameleon Suit sprung to life, adequately living up to its name and blending seamless with the wall he was trailing his hand along.

The elevator had an electronic key pad for secured entrance. Sesshoumaru quickly pulled out the cell phone Shippo had given him and popped the cover on the key pad, attaching the wire so Shippo could over ride the system.

It only took a matter of seconds for the doors to open, the kid was definitely good at what he did.

Sesshoumaru quickly replaced the cover and tucked the phone away before entering the elevator. The doors closed behind him with a soft ding. Soft music filtered down to his sensitive ears from a speaker in the wall.

Operation Fallen Angel was a go.

* * *

AN: Well, bet you guys are mad about me stopping there huh? Well, too bad! Mwahahahaha! Ok, maniacal laughter aside. The next chapter will be a biggie. We will have Operation Fallen Angel and you will learn how Kagome gets dragged into the melee. Good fun, lots of good action packed fun so stay tuned and don't forget to review!

U.C.


	4. Operation Fallen Angel

**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter 4**

_Operation Fallen Angel_

* * *

**New York City; 42 East 64th Street  
The Copal Lounge  
Saturday, June 18th , 6:45 pm Easter Pacific Time**

The gentle clinking of ice in her glass did little to calm her frazzled nerves as Ami, Yuka, and Eri continued to ooh and ahh over her engagement ring and randomly call out suggestions for wedding plans. Big gaudy dresses, tons of candles and fake flowers, and of course at least a dozen brides maids and groomsmen. Just what every girl wants.

Every girl but Kagome. She wanted a simple wedding, maybe on the beach at sunset. She tried to tell them that, but they just laughed. Apparently they thought she was joking.

In all honesty, Kagome would rather be on her way to her mothers right now, and that was saying a lot because she hated driving. The twelve hour drive to her mothers was hell especially since she had to go alone. She had been fortunate lately, the last two times she had visited her mother and grandfather in Michigan Sesshou had gone with her and even though he wasn't really much of a talker he was an incredible listener.

One of their favorite past times was to cuddle up in the bulky, over stuffed recliner in the living room near the balcony and spend hours with a good book. They would take turns reading aloud to each other. Kagome did most of the reading even though she preferred it when he read to her. His voice was so warm and soothing, but she always ended up falling asleep.

"Oh Nina is just going to die!" Yuka squealed, her vindictive delight obvious to everyone within a hundred mile radius. It effectively snapped Kagome out of her gentle contemplation as she tore her eyes from the small glass of wine, with ice. Inuyasha would laugh at her if he saw her with ice in her wine. She could just hear it now.

'It ain't scotch wench, what the hell you putting ice in it for?'

She giggled faintly at the thought, completely oblivious to the looks she was receiving from her eerily quiet friends.

"Oh she's got it bad." Eri teased.

"I think its sweet!" Ami cooed.

"I still can't believe she turned down Hojo." Yuka shook her head sadly as if watching someone throw a perfectly good filet minion to the dogs. Her chin was rested on her fist as she stared off into space.

Three sets of eyes snapped to Yuka so fast it was a wonder none of them got whiplash.

"What?" Yuka asked innocently sitting up straighter.

"I can't believe you brought that up." Eri scolded lightly.

"Really," Ami agreed, "this is Kagome's congratulations on your engagement party and your bringing up ex- flames. How tacky Yuka."

Hojo Perdue. Kagome's over enthusiastic suitor all through high school with slightly stalker-ish tendencies. She only actually went out on about a handful of dates with the poor boy, mostly out of pity. Even though she usually turned him down as politely as she could, he faithfully asked her out at least twice a week.

Kagome rolled her eyes as her friends continued to rake Yuka over the coals for bringing him up. She personally didn't see the big deal, he wasn't that cute. Besides Sesshou scared him away once and for all when they started dating. When he said he didn't like to share he wasn't lying. Inu's were notoriously territorial.

"Oh! I love this song!" Eri squealed jerking Kagome up out of her seat and earning herself a startled yelp.

"Uh, Eri, I'm really not in a dancing mood…" Kagome tried to pry away from the vice grip her friend had on her arm as she was dragged toward the dance floor.

"Nonsense." Ami reprimanded taking up her other arm. "We're here to celebrate, and we can't do that if you're being an old stick in the mud."

"Yeah, loosen up girl." Yuka added giving her a gentle push from behind.

Kagome's head dropped in defeat. There was no way she was going to be able to get away from them anytime soon. Maybe if she just went along with their twisted little game they would let her go soon.

* * *

**New York City; 43 East 64th Street  
Onigumo Grand Hotel and Suites, Freight Elevator  
Saturday, June 18th , 8:05 pm Easter Pacific Time**

A cheesy orchestrated version of Elvis' 'Jail House Rock' was playing over the speakers in the elevator bringing a smirk to Sesshoumaru's face. He always said that Onigumo had no taste, and this just proved it. He stood at the back of the small box nearly invisible to the eye. He would be completely imperceptible to any security cameras, a major plus. The suit gave him the ability to walk around freely and undetected. It also bought them some time.

"Ok," Shippo's voice crackled though the mic, "There should be a panel on the left side of the ceiling. Shouldn't be too hard to open and it will give you free access to the elevator shaft. The blue prints show a ladder descending, but they don't show how far exactly they go."

"We'll just play it by ear then." Sesshoumaru jumped up, pushing the emergency hatch open and pulled himself up through the opening, the muscles in his arms rippling as they tensed to support the weight.

Once on top of the car he could see the ladder descending into the darkness of the elevator shaft. Thick cords and pulleys were attached to the car itself near his feet, the thick gray steel blending in with the darkness around him.

This was where being Youkai really came in handy. With his Inu blood he could see better in the dark than any human with night vision goggles. Oh, and there was also the super human strength and speed, but that was a given.

Sesshoumaru swung himself around and started to stealthily climb down the thin metal ladder, quite nearly tempted to just grab the sides of it and slide down. If he knew that it wouldn't just end abruptly after sublevel 2 he would go for it, but even a Youkai would have a hard time walking away from a hundred foot drop onto concrete.

"Ok Sesshoumaru, you're just passing Sublevel two so watch your footing." Shippo's voice came through the mic. No sooner than the words floated to his ears that Sesshoumaru's foot met air.

So Shippo had been right, the ladder did end after the last legally recorded level of the building. No problem really, just a small setback.

Sesshoumaru pulled a small black hand grip from his belt, it almost looked like a thick set of brass knuckles, but when he pressed the small release button on the side a tiny grappling hook shot out twining itself tightly around the bottom rung of the ladder. The thin wire looked no thicker than fishing wire, but it was tested and could hold up to two tons for a reasonable amount of time.

After adjusting his grip on the handle Sesshoumaru gracefully pushed off from the ladder and began to rappel down the wall in long graceful arcs, his feet barely making a sound as they hit the wall.

"Shippo, I am approaching the doors to sublevel 3." Sesshoumaru said calmly as his feet quietly touched the sliding metal doors that opened up to the 3rd sub level.

"Ok, your best bet is going to be to enter through here. From our scans it looks like there is a stair case leading to the last sublevel where the freezer unit is. That's going to be our best bet on finding the Archangel."

Sesshoumaru gave a curt, determined nod, though it was pretty pointless since Shippo couldn't see him. Lowering himself lightly to balance on the narrow ledge before the doors, Sesshoumaru pulled out a long, thin, cylindrical piece of wiring and slid it between the doors.

"Shippo, switch visual to the optic cable." Sesshoumaru whispered lowly. He felt a small current of energy from his left eye before his vision blurred. He closed his eyes and could see the data from the optical cable through the projector in the lens.

Sesshoumaru watched from an ants point of view as two guards came around the corner in fully black stealth camo carrying what looked to be illegally modified AK47's. He sat quietly, the optical cable automatically bending to follow their retreat around the corner.

The hallway itself was pretty sterile looking. White walls, white floor, white ceiling. The only color at all was a thin chrome piping that ran along at about waist length like a metallic chair molding. There were white security cameras set up about every six feet rotating back and forth in sync, but those wouldn't be a problem considering that he was wearing the stealth suit. He would blend so seamlessly with the walls the camera's wouldn't be able to pick him up at all.

That was the easy part. It was those guards that were going to give him trouble. He had to time their rounds and ascertain exactly how many were on the floor. Perhaps Shippo would be able to tell from thermal scans a round about number of bodies he would have to account for.

"I need a body count." He turned the optic cable once more as the set of guards rounded the corner once more. Three minutes, that's not long. That brought up the possibility of more posts set up around the floor, which meant more guards in turn leading to a higher body count.

Of course in situations like these fatalities were not an issue, but sometimes it was easier not to kill, as dubious as that may seem.

Shippo's voice crackled through the microphone sending a faint metallic twinge through Sesshoumaru's molar. It was an odd tingling sensation and Sesshoumaru had to squeeze his eyes shut to focus himself and resist the urge to bite down and destroy the little piece of machinery.

"From what I can tell from the security cameras and thermo scans there are only about a dozen guards on that level. I can't really decipher body heat on the lower level because of the sub-zero storage unit and if there are any security camera's down there I haven't been able to patch into them."

'Only a dozen' Sesshoumaru thought wryly. Normally a dozen guards would be nothing, but digression was the key in this situation. He had to get in, destroy the Archangel, then he could blow the place to hell if he wanted. Of course there were still all the civilians in the upper building to account for, most of whom were innocents.

Once the guards made their next pass Sesshoumaru sprung into action. Using the flat edge of the slim, black stealth dagger he kept tucked in his boot he pried the doors open and silently slipped into the hall.

* * *

**New York City; 42 East 64th Street  
Copal Lounge Dance Hall  
Saturday, June 18, 7:55pm**

The music pounded around her in a syncopated beat, the base reverberating out of the huge speakers making her whole body thrum with the rhythm. It was really quite deafening and Kagome was starting to feel a little claustrophobic, not to mention the tubby guy with the bad hair piece that kept trying to catch her eye.

Yuka and Eri had paired up with the first couple of single guys that came their way while Ami was contented to perform her version of what looked like a neurotic pee-pee dance in the middle of the floor. Everyone seemed to be keeping their distance for fear of getting whapped by one of her wildly flailing arms.

Now that she really thought about it, she kind of looked like that giant flailing balloon thing outside of the Sprint Wireless store.

Kagome was left to mingle amongst the crowd, trying desperately to blend in enough to not be noticed while still staying detached from the crowd. She was more than ready to go, but couldn't seem to pull any of her friends out of the crowd long enough to tell them she was leaving. She didn't want to just disappear on them, Ami would panic and call the police, Eri would call Inuyasha (just because her sudden disappearance would be a good excuse), and Inuyasha would call Sesshou who would not at all be pleased about her still being in the city.

Still, this really sucked. A couple of drunk girls knocked into her from behind, their abhorrent giggling as they noticed Kagome's drenched top from where her drink had spilled on impact was almost enough to send her over the edge. She was hot and tired, her head was pounding, and now her shirt was drenched in luke warm beer.

Just as she was about to storm out and call a cab two sets of hands grabbed her and pulled her out onto the dance floor. She nearly shrieked in fright until she noticed it was just Eri and Yuka.

* * *

**New York City; 43 East 64th Street  
Onigumo Grand Hotel and Suites, Stairwell between Sublevel 2 and 3  
Saturday, June 18th, 8:20 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

Getting through the first of the two uncharted sublevels had proved to be anticlimactic at best. It was almost disappointing, he had hoped for his last mission to at least be somewhat challenging. He simply knocked the two guards on tour out with a simple hit to the pressure point at the back of their necks. All the other guards on the floor were conveniently huddled around a card table at the back playing poker.

He simply tossed in one of the cufflinks he'd pocketed into the room and watched them all slump against the table before any of them could even recognize the threat.

The only real problem he ran into was the retinal scan that had to be passed in order to gain access to the stairwell. He'd had to hold one of the sleeping guards up to it and pry his eye open manually. Loathsome business really, the eagle Youkai had the strong smell of Tequila on him, it was quite nauseating.

"I am approaching the last sublevel door." Sesshoumaru whispered in the empty hall, his voice echoing slightly against the concrete walls and floor.

"I'm with ya." Shippo replied, his voice a bit staticky due to layers of concrete and steel between him and ground level, but the nervous tension was still easily recognizable in his clipped tones.

The door itself was not much to look at. A plain steel door, almost hatch like in appearance, with the an ominous black spider emblazoned on the slate gray.

Sesshoumaru slipped the optical cable under the door and Shippo switched his lens camera on. Sesshoumaru grunted in displeasure at the room beyond the door.

The floor was black and slick as ice, most likely pressure sensitive when activated. Hopefully Shippo would be able to bypass that easy enough. The real problem lie with the chris-crossing lasers covering the floor. Were they just simple alarm tripping beams it wouldn't have been a problem, but these were glowing a soft blue and crackled slightly with energy.

Purity beams. So Onigumo has a Miko at his disposal does he. Very interesting. That would work to fend against most Youkai invaders, but not this Sesshoumaru. He was a tai, not to mention he was wearing the chameleon suit which, among its other attributes, could repel almost anything, miko purity included up to a certain extent. So long as he didn't come into contact with more than one beam at once he would be fine.

As soon as Shippo by passed the security code and deactivated the pressure sensitive floor Sesshoumaru entered the room.

"Ok, we've got exactly five minutes starting now until the pressure sensitivity in that floor reactivates so lets make this quick and thorough." Shippo's voice crackled.

"Don't I always." Sesshoumaru stated with cool indifference.

Sesshoumaru looked around with a mix of awe and disgust. This was certainly the most extensive bio lab he had ever seen owned by a private sector. Of course that didn't necessarily mean that Onigumo was in collaboration with Naraku, but it didn't bode well for him either.

After all, how many upstanding businessmen and rising politicians have secret biological testing labs in their basements.

There was a long stainless steel countertop unit running down the middle of the room, heavily laden with microscopes, beakers, Bunsen burners, and slides. A large refrigeration unit lined one wall that Sesshoumaru set his sights on and carefully made his way over to.

What he found was enough to make his stomach curl.

"Shit. Shippo, are you getting this?"

"Y-Yeah." came the shaky reply.

In the long refrigeration unit were hundreds of neatly labeled cultures and vials. Polio, Small pox, E-coli, Diphtheria, and West Nile to name a few, and those were only the homo-genus diseases. There was a whole section full of viruses potent enough to bring even the heartiest of Youkai to their knees, or more appropriately their caskets.

"I'm going to have to blow the whole lab." Sesshoumaru stated, not necessarily talking to Shippo.

"Take care of the Archangel first, then we'll blow the lab." Shippo's voice had taken a bit of a blank tone, Sesshoumaru could just picture the color draining out of the lively young red head. The kid was really too young for this line of work, but he was a technical genius.

Sesshoumaru turned, making his way to the sub-zero unit that lined the opposite wall. A large orange Bio-Hazard sign was painted on the heavy steel door. He plugged in the cord from his 'phone' so Shippo could by pass the code, but there was also a retina scanner.

"Shippo, can you rig this lens to match Onigumo's retina?"

"Yeah, but do you think that Onigumo would be the one with the clearance and not one of his scientists? We could always just blow the door."

"Just do it."

After a few seconds Sesshoumaru felt a strange tingling sensation in his eye. "Ok, you're a go."

Sesshoumaru placed his eye down to the scanner and waited patiently as the red scanner light passed the lensed eye. Not even two seconds later the door gave an audible click and swung forward. A blast of cold air rushed out to greet him with a hiss and he stepped through the cold vapor into the storage unit.

Shelves upon shelves of bottles of greenish purple liquid lined the walls none of which were frozen. In fact they still seemed to be bubbling as if boiling despite the frigid temperatures.

"There's enough there to take out half the planet." Shippo whimpered slightly.

"How do I destroy it?"

"Just break the bottles. The virus has to have a live host for 48 hours before it become volatile, so if you expose it to open air it should die in a matter of minutes, just be sure not to get any on you. I don't think it can absorb through the skin, but better safe than dead."

Sesshoumaru smirked at the kids choice of words. Shippo loosened the dimmer on his Youki to make it easier for him to destroy the store. Two clawed fingers began to glow with an eerie green light as Sesshoumaru lashed out with his whip, destroying all the vials in one felled swoop.

"One minute thirty seconds left." Shippo reminded.

"I'm through." Sesshoumaru turned and surveyed the rest of the lab. It would have to be destroyed as well, but how to do it with out bringing the whole building down with it? "Shippo, I need you to turn off my regulator."

"But, your cover will be blown, if you're spotted…"

"Then I wont be spotted."

"Ok, if you're sure."

Sesshoumaru felt the tell tale pulse as his Youki was released and the glamour was dispelled. He felt his blood rushing at the freedom he felt. With his full power at his disposal he would be able to create a barrier over the lab to prevent serious damage to the infrastructure while still completely destroying the lab.

With the grace and speed only Youkai of strong bloodlines and training posses he placed the plastic explosives around the lab strategically and headed out the door. Once out he drew in a deep breath, opening his soul and pulling fourth his power to erect a barrier around the lab.

His Youki shimmered and glowed, crackling with its immense power and strength. It had been a while since he'd been fully open like this and he was already feeling the strain. Even as powerful as he was, a heavy barrier such as this was not easy to maintain.

Moments later a muffled boom rocked the building, sending shudders straight through to the upper levels. He needed to hurry or he would have company very soon.

As he was drawing back in what he could of his energy he felt a sharp sting at the back of his neck.

"Shippo, what was that?"

"Damn, your regulator chips just shorted, I can probably dim the presence of your Youki, but I wont' be able to reenact the glamour."

Challenging, just the way he liked it. Pulling the face mask back in place over his head Sesshoumaru made his way back up the stairs.

"Mission Successful." He heard Shippo calling out over all of their mic's. "Time to pull out."

* * *

**New York City; 42 East 64th Street  
Copal Lounge Dance Hall  
Saturday, June 18th, 8:45 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

A nagging pain was wedging itself between her brain and the front of her skull. If she didn't get out of this stupid club soon, she really was going to lose it. Eri and Yuka yet again had disappeared into the crowd and Ami, amazingly enough, had met her match when it came to bad dancing and was currently tearing up the dance floor. Literally.

The couple made a dangerous pair.

Not to mention the squatty bald man with the bad hair piece who had had his eyes glued to her all evening had taken to not so inconspicuously following her around the club. It was starting to unnerve her. When he was joined by a tall, muscular man with long black hair pulled over his shoulder in a neat plait Kagome started getting nervous. When the squatty man pointed her out and the tall man got a rather feral grin on his face she decided it was time to go.

With out bothering to find her friends to say good bye she made her way out the door.

* * *

**New York City; 43 East 64th Street  
Onigumo Grand Hotel and Suites; Hallway behind the kitchens  
Saturday, June 18th, 8:40 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

Sango shifted nervously in her hiding place behind the crate. She was his second, but this was more of a seek and destroy mission so she was playing look out.

She had been ecstatic when Shippo announced that the mission was a success, but that had been nearly ten minutes ago and it wasn't like Sesshoumaru to take so long after the order to pull out was issued.

Just as she was about to contact him the grate in the air vent over head was moved and down dropped Sesshoumaru as gracefully and soundlessly as a cat.

"What took you so long?" She whispered nervously as he pulled his Armani suit on. "And what happened to your glamour?"

"I got stuck in traffic and my regulator chip shorted." he answered straightening his tie and offering her his arm as they strolled out from behind the crate and made their way toward the front exit.

"Traffic?" she questioned, but he didn't bother to answer.

Actually he got stuck on the top of the elevator as it ascended to the third floor and had to crawl through the vents to get back to ground level. Luckily he managed to avoid the rush of guards seeking the source of the explosion.

So far the mission had gone smoothly, and he was starting to regret sending Kagome away. All they had left was to meet back up at the check point. Maybe he'd just drive out in the morning and join her, it had been a while since he'd sampled her mothers cooking and it would be nice to just get away from the city for a while.

They made it out the door easily enough, though Sesshoumaru's distinctive hair color did grasp a few looks and murmurs on their way out.

They were almost in the clear when Miroku's voice broke through over the mics. "You've got incoming, they look like they're just patrolling, but they followed you out the door. Better make it look convincing."

Sesshoumaru nodded and swung Sango around and pushed her up against the side of the building, lowering his head to her neck to give the illusion of an amorous young couple. He could smell her nervousness, but she giggled coyly and murmured his mission name.

The guards seemed to buy it, because they spared them no more than a passing glance on their way around the corner. Unfortunately they weren't the only ones to spot them.

* * *

**New York City; 42 East 64th Street  
Copal Lounge Front Entrance  
Saturday, June 18th, 8:53 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

Kagome pushed through the glass rotating doors and away from the drinks and noise of the raucous nightlife, sending a nervous glance over her shoulder. When she found herself alone she relaxed a little and raised her hand to hail a cab.

The best thing about New York is that there is always a cab around. Just as she was about to climb into the back Kagome caught sight of a familiar shock of white hair across the seat.

"Could you wait for just a second?" She asked the cabbie sweetly. At his nod she set aside her common sense and attempted to cross 64th street, dodging traffic and ignoring the rude gestures of the passing drivers.

She was right it was Sesshou, but…he was with a woman. A very beautiful, elegant sort of woman. The green hand of jealousy clenched at her heart, but she stilled it convincing herself that it was just a coworker.

That is until he swung the woman around and began kissing her neck. The woman's giggles fell upon enraged ears as Kagome stalked forward, all the hell she had been through tonight coming to a cataclysmic crescendo. She roughly pushed by two passing security guards and stood behind her fiancé and his ….what ever.

"Sesshou?" She asked tentatively, hoping among hope that it was someone else who just happened to have an affinity for bleached hair. When she saw the man stiffen all her hopes crashed in around making it hard to breath.

A look of panic crossed the face of the young woman holding him before it smoothed into an apologetic smile. Sesshoumaru turned slowly, wincing at the pure anger and hurt he found in her eyes.

"Don't let her blow your cover. Those guards are watching!" Shippo wailed into the mic, causing Sesshoumaru to grimace, tempted to just swallow the damn thing to get rid of the voice.

"I'm sorry dear," Sango began regretfully, "But I think you are confused, my husbands name is Michael."

Kagome looked into Sesshoumaru's eyes, a lone tear streaking down her anger flushed cheek. He ground his nails into his palms, resisting the temptation to wipe the wipe her pain away and tell her the complete truth, but he couldn't. He could only stand here and deny her to her face, letting her believe him to be a married man.

Ten minutes. Ten more minutes and the mission would have been over and he would have been free of the lies forever, but no…fate was a corrupt dealer in the game of life.

"You're right," she said softly, the light in her eyes sparking with the fire of her fury and hurt, "I was confused, but I see very clearly now. Thank-you."

She never once took her eyes away from Sesshoumaru's, not when she spoke, not as more tears cascaded down her face, and not when her engagement ring slid from her finger and bounced across the sidewalk landing before his feet.

Without another word she turned and started back across the road toward her awaiting taxi, too distracted to notice that she had unwelcome company in the car. She never even looked back as she climbed in and the cab drove away.

Sesshoumaru could feel his control wavering. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, and everyone else connected to the mic's was too smart to offer consolation.

With out a word Sesshoumaru stooped low, snatching up the ring and stalked toward the check point. Sango hurried behind him, both pitying and worried about her fellow agent.

Slapdash spots of red littered the trail back to the check point, blood. Blood from Sesshoumaru's hands, though Sango seriously doubted the man even noticed he was injured.

* * *

AN: Ok kiddies, what have we learned today? Lying about working for the CIA and getting caught by your fiance with your 'wife' only ends in heart ache, even if you did just save the world. ….um….yeah. Anyways, now you have a little hint at how Kagome gets dragged into this mess. Can you guess who chubby and muscle head were? Well anyways, next chapter will be about Kagome's really bad day and Naraku's next move. I hope you enjoyed and thank you so much, I have gotten some of the most flattering reviews, it makes me blush, but I love it! Don't forget to review if you've enjoyed reading, it lets other people know that this story is worth their time! Next chapter soon!

U.C.


	5. Into the Night

**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter 5**

_Into the Night_

* * *

**New York City, Corner of East 64th and 78th Streets  
Yellow Cab, license plate # 267-KJZ  
Saturday, June 18th 9:15 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

The cool press of steel against her ribcage stung even through the material of her blouse. Kagome sat rigid with fear against the weathered vinyl back seat of the cab, the man with the bad hair piece sat next to her grinning with maniacal glee as he casually ran his hand through her hair with one hand while the other pressed a pistol to her side.

The tall, well muscled man was seated upfront next to a cabbie who looked just as nervous as she did. She could see the mans dark braid slung casually over his shoulder while his arm rested across the back of the seat, a small black 9mm in his hand.

The man beside her was frightening without a doubt, but the man up front was the one that really had her worried. He had such an air of casual indifference about the whole thing, like he was on a Sunday drive instead of partaking in kidnapping and assault with a deadly weapon.

"Isn't she pretty Hiten?" the man beside her cooed, the smell of alcohol on his breath was enough to knock her out. He was obviously very drunk.

"She's ok." Hiten said offhandedly with a bored gesture from the front.

'Ok!' Kagome thought indignantly, though she was too frightened to speak.

"Such lovely hair." The large man commented to himself.

"Eh…I've seen better." Hiten added his two cents. Kagome was incensed. How dare they kidnap her then insult her. They were probably going to kill her anyway, might as well speak her peace.

"How dare you! If I'm nothing special then why the hell did you kidnap me?!" She demanded, shying away when her captor leaned forward and took an obnoxiously loud sniff of her hair.

Hiten turned around in his seat and gave her a steady glare. At first she was afraid he would turn around and shoot her right there and then. That is until a wide grin broke out on his maliciously handsome face.

"She's a feisty one Manten. I think we will take her to Lord Naraku. He is always looking for a good woman or two."

"But I want to keep her." Manten whined, giving a lock of Kagome's hair a not so gentle tug for emphasis causing Kagome grimace.

"Too bad, you know the rules. Who knows, maybe Naraku will reward us for this one. He likes them fiery."

* * *

**New York City; 37 East 64th Street  
Hotel Athenee Plaza, Room 346  
Saturday, June 18th, 9:18 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

Everyone watched in silence as Sesshoumaru stripped off all of his gear dropping it in the floor in a heap of cloth, wire, plastic, and metal. He even went so far as to pop the lens out of his eye, dropping it onto the pile paying no attention to the millions of dollars worth of equipment he was ruining.

Sango seemed to be taking it the hardest. The look on that poor girls face was heart wrenching. The heartache she must be going through right now. She fidgeted nervously in her evening gown, unsure of what to say or do. How do you console someone who may have just lost the love of their life forever. They were waiting for Miroku to arrive, he was the last in the operation to pull out.

When the door opened Miroku strode in and froze at the sight before him. Sesshoumaru stood in the center of the room in only a pair of dress slacks, having shed everything else including his shoes which were equipped with stealth daggers and untraceable homing beacons. He was throwing away everything that distinguished him as an agent.

Once he was finished he reached around to the back of his neck and dug his claws into his flesh. Sango gasped, Koga looked away as Ayami buried her head in his shoulder, Shippo seemed to drain of all color, and Miroku just looked on with a grave expression.

Bloody fingers pulled out a small piece of plastic, his regulator chip that had been embedded at the base of his skull. He added the bloodied microchip to the pile and with out so much as a goodbye pulled on his white dress shirt and stormed out the door.

New York City; Lower East Side Manhattan  
Unmarked Warehouse on Riverdale St.  
Saturday, June 18th, 9:38 pm Eastern Pacific Time

The cab pulled up in front of an old abandoned looking warehouse. What few windows it had were bricked up and the only light came from a dim, murky light over the door that only added to the macabre scene.

Kagome felt the gun press harder against her side as Manten reached over her, his face purposely brushing against her chest making her shudder in disgust, and opening the door.

"Out girlie." He emphasized with a not so gentle shove with the barrel of his gun.

Kagome obediently climbed out of the cab standing on the curb contemplating escape as Manten clumsily pulled himself out behind her. Surely they wouldn't really shoot her, if she ran they would yell and chase her, but not shoot her.

Hiten's door swung open suddenly startling her, if she was going to run she needed to do it now. Manten was one thing, she could out run him with out really trying, but Hiten was another story all together. He was all sinewy muscle and long lines, he'd catch her in a heart beat. She watched in nervous indecision as Hiten leaned down and looked at the cabbie.

"Thanks for the ride." He said politely before turning his gun on him and shooting him point blank in the head.

Kagome screamed, her fist coming up to her mouth in horror. He…he just shot him. Her mind screamed for her to run yet her body remained frozen in place. Manten leaned heavily on her, his drunken breath spilling across her neck and collar bone. Bile rose up in her throat when Hiten turned to her with a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

How could anyone look so content and happy after murdering someone in cold blood, Kagome just couldn't understand. He grinned when he saw the horror stricken look on her face and sauntered up to her.

"What's the matter girlie? Never watched a man die before?" He purred with an almost seductive tone, acting as if he were whispering sweet nothings to her instead of sadistic utterances. "Its invigorating, no?"

"You murderer!" She spat in his face, the precipice of her patience breached. As soon as the words left her mouth Kagome knew she'd made a mistake. Her body stiffened of its own volition, awaiting for his retaliation. She expected him to hit her, or shoot her, or at least yell at her.

What she didn't expect was for him to laugh, but he did and he kept laughing even as the door to the ware house opened and two young men came out and began cleaning up the mess he'd made in the cab. Kagome wasn't sure exactly what to do. It was obvious that Hiten was criminally insane, but had no experience in dealing with such 'delicate' people. Any wrong move could get her killed or worse.

Manten was of no help what so ever. In fact he seemed to be passed out on his feet, now leaning heavily on her shoulder for support. Not at all a welcome gesture seeing as the man had to weigh almost three hundred pounds and compared to Kagome's slight 120, well it put her at a disadvantage.

Just as suddenly as he'd started Hiten's manic laughter came to an abrupt halt. Suddenly Kagome found herself caught by the front of her shirt and being held uncomfortably close to the insane man before her. Manten swayed unsteadily having lost his prop and grumbled a few unintelligible words. Kagome's eyes were drawn to the gleaming white of Hiten's fangs, which were bared in extreme displeasure.

'So he is a Youkai.' Kagome thought dismally, realizing that there was no way she would be able to get away now. The two had given off an odd vibe, but unlike most Youkai they were virtually undistinguishable from humans, possibly elementals.

'Sesshou,' Kagome thought dismally. If he were there…hell thinking about him only made it worse. It hurt to think that he'd been using her, lying to her all this time. She had to wonder, all those times he went out of town on business, was he really going home to his wife? Oh god, did he have children too? Was she just one of many mistresses he had put up in swank apartments around the world?

Hiten's face smoothed back out into the coldly handsome lines as he took a delicate sniff. "Argh… Manten you got your stink all over her, she reeks of cheap scotch."

"Sorry brother." Manten managed to slur out, though he sounded like he was about to hurl at any given moment.

Hiten let go of the front of her shirt, opting to take a firm hold of her upper arm instead. Kagome grimaced as he squeezed her painfully, but refused to cry out. She would not let him intimidate her, tonight she'd been through hell and there was nothing they could do to make it any worse.

"Come girlie, time for you to meet the boss."

* * *

**New York City; Upper East Side Manhattan  
18th floor, apartment 4D  
Saturday, June 18th, 11:45 pm**

For the first time in over a year Sesshoumaru Takishima came home to an empty apartment. There was no note on the board, no meal in the fridge for him to 'nuke' as Kagome called it, and no soft, warm body in his bed.

Sesshoumaru felt for the first time at a complete loss of what to do and realized with startling force that Kagome Higurashi was his life.

He was sitting exactly where he had been since he got home over an hour ago, on his balcony with a glass of rum. The wound on the back of his neck had long since healed, the only proof that it was ever there to begin with was the dried blood on the collar of his shirt.

The ring, his mothers ring and now Kagome's, was fitted snugly on his pinky finger and he would glance down at it every few minutes. The look on her face…it tore at him even thinking about it now. Thinking he had betrayed her, thinking he had lied to her, but it was all true in away. He could have told her he was an agent, but not only do regulations forbid it, it would have also put her in direct danger if she knew too much.

That was something her refused to do.

Now the big question was what to do now? He was no longer an agent, and if his strip down at the check point wasn't clear enough he would give them something a bit more unmistakable. He glanced down at his watch, nearly midnight. It was still too early to call and see if she made it to her mothers alright. If she left right after their little encounter she wouldn't get there until at least 5 am, if she even left tonight.

Beep, Beep, Beep

Sesshoumaru's glass shattered in his grip. How dare they call him after what happened tonight. He told them he was through after this mission even before all this mess.

Beep, Beep, Beep

Without any second thoughts Sesshoumaru indulged in something he'd wanted to do for years. He heaved the phone off the balcony as hard as he could. From what he could tell it landed somewhere in central park, probably giving some hobo a rather rude wake up call.

With a small amount of satisfaction Sesshoumaru headed in the apartment, not bothering with any of the lights. He just wanted to crash right now. He would find Kagome tomorrow and explain everything, regulations be damned.

* * *

**New York City; Lower East Side Manhattan  
Unmarked Warehouse on Riverdale St.  
Saturday, June 18th , 10:22 pm Eastern Pacific Time**

Kagome was dragged roughly through the warehouse toward the back. The front room looked just as she'd expected it too. Cement floor, bare walls, a few dusty crates here and there, but once they passed through a heavily guarded door at the back things looked a little different.

It was like she just walked out of the gutter and into the Ritz Carlton. Plush oriental rugs adorned highly polished wood floors, beautiful paintings lined the walls, and a huge mahogany desk large enough for her to lay flat upon and not have any part of her hanging off the edge.

An imposing leather chair was turned away from her exposing its wide, flat back. It was easily the largest desk chair she had ever seen, looking more like a thrown than a seat. Hiten shoved her roughly ahead of him and kicked her knees out from under her, forcing her to kneel before the desk.

Kagome grimaced as her knees dug into the soft rug, Hiten's grip on her shoulder hadn't let up and she was fairly sure it would leave marks.  
She thought that he was just trying to humiliate her until he dropped to his knees beside her and removed his hand from her arm to push her head down into a bow.

"I come bearing a gift Lord Naraku." Hiten's voice rang out, the shaky, slightly nervous quality did not escape Kagome's attention making her anxiety build even higher.

Slowly the chair began to turn. Kagome's breath hitched as she watched the best she could from the harsh angle Hiten was holding her head. What she saw made her gasp. Sitting in that monstrous chair was what appeared to be a…. man in a monkey suit!

What the hell?! Was this some kind of joke. He had some sort of whitish pelt with a baboon face draped over him, his hands held together in front of him in a contemplative gesture. She couldn't see his face due to the baboon mask and Hiten still had a firm grip on the back of her head.

Everything about the man seemed to scream in bold letters his agitation, though whether it was at Hiten and herself or from another situation she couldn't tell.

"Hiten." His voice was so cold, it sent trickles of fear down her spine like ice water. "Leave now before I kill you." He paused. "Take the wench with you."

Kagome was suddenly jerked up on her feet. She gasped and looked frightened at the man behind the desk. She could barely see his eyes behind the mask, but they were so malevolent glowing with an almost crimson light.

Hiten turned pulling her along behind him, a sadistic smirk spreading across his face. "Guess we'll get to have some fun after all."

The door on the left side of the room suddenly swung open and a tall, elegant woman swept into the room with a small stack of papers under her arm.

Kagome was doing her best to drag her feet and slow her captor down as much as possible, but his grip on her arm was painful enough to make her whimper.

"Here are the pictures of the suspects from this evening." The woman crooned in a deep, sultry voice. Her black hair was swept up into an elegant bun with a strange ornamental feather tucked in.

"That will be all Kagura." Naraku looked down at the large blown up pictures in front of him. They were all candid shots of different people attending the charity ball this evening and they were all completely worthless. All but one that is.

"Hiten, bring the girl to me."

Hiten's smile disappeared, he had his hand on the door and was fully prepared to take off with Kagome. He roughly turned around and pulled Kagome back to Naraku's desk.

"Leave."

Hiten seemed a bit hesitant, but relented and left. Now it was just Kagome and Naraku. Kagome fidgeted nervously, fighting the urge to run. She couldn't tell if the man before her was demon or human, but the dark feeling of evil rolled off him in waves.

Once the door closed behind Hiten Naraku pushed the baboon pelt off his head revealing a devastatingly beautiful man. Long dark hair fell in waves behind him and startling crimson eyes set in an oddly familiar face.

"You-your …"

"Onigumo Hashinuba, yes a rather good public facade if I do say so myself." He crooned with a humorless smirk. He picked up a photo from the stack in front of him and slid it across the desk in front of her. It was a picture taken earlier in the evening in the alley next to the Onigumo Grand Hotel and Suites on 64th Street.

Kagome felt the sting of tears prickling the corners of her eyes. It was an 8X10 black and white of Kagome confronting Sesshou and his…wife. Sesshou…or who ever he really was.

"Can you tell me who this is?" Naraku asked smoothly, smiling outright when a tear slipped down her porcelain cheek.

"That's me." Kagome whispered.

"And this? Who is this man?"

Her tears burst forth an abided and her body trembled under the full force of her pain and fear.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Naraku seemed to be reveling in her suffering. "Who is this?" He repeated picking a dagger up off the desk and began twirling it menacingly between his hands, the shiny blade catching the light as it spun.

"Why do you want to know?" She demanded weakly, using up the last of her bravado.

Naraku's smile slid off his face replacing it with something much more sinister. With a nearly imperceptible flick of his wrist he flung the dagger, the blade grazing her cheek leaving a trail of blood before sticking in the wall behind her.

"Now, lets try this again. Who is this?" He said slowly, pulling out a long barreled pistol from the top drawer. Kagome whimpered at the sight of it, she didn't doubt for a minute that he would shoot her.

"S-Sesshou Tadiama." She whispered brokenly, tears streaming down her face. No matter what he did to her, she didn't want to betray him, but she couldn't seem to keep the words from spilling out. Of course if that wasn't his real name then it didn't really matter did it?

Naraku sat back in his chair, a true look of surprise on his face. Then he started to laugh. The sound only made Kagome cry harder. Suddenly the door burst open and a very drunk Manten stumbled in. With out even pausing in his laughter, Naraku shot him point blank in the head, dropping him on the spot. Kagome screamed and sunk to her knees, Naraku just laughed harder.

When Kagome thought she could take no more of the horrible noise he slammed his hands flat down on the desk making her cry out. Kagome looked up at him startled. He had a horrible smile, full of malicious intent. He was grinning like a mad man. Looking down at the picture on the desk he whispered darkly.

"Sesshoumaru."

* * *

AN: Just a quick thank you to all of you out there that have reviewed. I've got some really great responses and I truly appreciate each and every one of you. Please continue to let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy the story!!!! U.C. 


	6. On the edge of forever

AN; Just a quick thanks for all the great reviews and a quick note on the music for this chapter. I have selected a classic, as I am prone to do. It is 'Oh Fortuna', and yes it really is an opera selection. I get my stuff from the 'Opera Babes' album, and if you can get you're hands on it you'll know why I chose this song. Anyways, I'll quit talking now. Hope you enjoy the story….

* * *

**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter Six**

**On the Edge of Forever**

* * *

**New York City  
Upper East Side Manhattan  
Sunday, June 19th, 7:59 am Eastern Pacific Time**

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Sesshoumaru groaned from his place on the couch and threw his arm over his face to ward off the early morning light assaulting his slightly hung over senses. Last night had been hellish in more ways than he'd like to remember. When he found that he could no longer sleep alone in his own bed he had sought his comfort in a bottle or two of rum.

He was angry at Kagome for not leaving when he told her to, angry at the agency for putting him in this position to begin with, but most of all, he was angry at himself. He was angry at his own weakness for her and angry that he didn't just tell her the truth all along.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

And now his head was pounding something fierce while his body stubbornly protested his assent into consciousness. Why was he awake again?

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"SESSHOUMARU!" Inuyasha's voice rang out through the thin walls of his apartment.

'Oh', he thought dryly, 'that's why.' Perhaps if I ignore him he will go away.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"I know you're in there!" Inuyasha bellowed, no doubt waking everyone on his floor. "Open the door before I break it in!"

So much for ignoring him. Maybe killing him would be a better option. With a heavy sigh Sesshoumaru pulled himself off the couch and staggered toward the door. He didn't have too much of a hangover, thankfully, but between the rum and the forced removal of his regulator chip he had one hell of a headache.

"What do you want little brother." He snapped leaning heavily on the door frame.

"You look like shit." Inuyasha pushed past Sesshoumaru and made himself at home in the living room.

Sesshoumaru huffed at his brothers audacity, but then again it did offer him a sense of normalcy, and no matter how small the comfort, it was there. He needed something normal to hold onto at the moment. "I don't remember inviting you in."

"Nope, don't suppose you did, but I didn't figure you'd want to discuss this out in the hall. Too many ears ya' know."

"Yes, since you've taken the liberty to wake everyone on the floor." He slammed the door to his apartment and flopped into his recliner. "What do you want?" He turned his head tiredly toward his brother, who was sitting hunched over, arms resting on his knees, long hair braided into a long messy rope slung carelessly over his shoulder. It looked as though he had just jumped out of bed and rushed over there.

Inuyasha's look turned serious. "They need you down at head quarters. They've been trying to reach you all morning. What happened to you're phone?"

"It's somewhere in central park." Sesshoumaru answered with a shrug, earning a smirk from his brother. He regarded the younger man sitting across from him for a moment. Inuyasha had been retired from the agency for almost two years now, they must have been pretty desperate to reach him if they decided to take that avenue. Inuyasha would not cooperate for free. "I quit last night. I'm through with the agency."

"There's a problem."

Sesshoumaru turned his head to look out the window. The sun was coming up casting its glow into a cloudless sky. Only a faint trace of the grayish cloud of smog that seemed to cling to the city could be seen in the skies, a text book example of a beautiful day. Soon people would begin to rise to start their day, completely ignorant of the danger lurking in the darkest corners of this hell known as life.

They could care less what he gave up to ensure their freedom - to be sure that their pathetic little lives carried on another day. It didn't matter to them. It wasn't their problem.

Well it wasn't his anymore either.

"Sess…" Inuyasha started out tentatively, breeching the subject delicately. "Look, they told me what happened with Kags. Just tell her the truth, she'll understand. I'll even back you up, man."

Sesshoumaru grunted noncommittally and continued to look out over the breaking day. An apology and a barely believable explanation, no matter how true, just didn't seem enough to erase the anguish he'd put on her face last night.

"C'mon Sess, they need you down at head quarters…they wouldn't tell me much, just that there have been complications." Inuyasha shot his brother a side long glance, inwardly hurting for his brother, but knowing him well enough that consolation would be pointless and would serve to only further piss him off.

"It is no longer my problem." The quiet man lounging almost bonelessly in the recliner seemed a far cry from the stealthy, tightly coiled warrior from the night before. He seemed almost diminished somehow despite the fact that his Youki was no longer being repressed and the full force of his presence was exposed.

"You really love her, huh?" Inuyasha knew it was wrong to be prying, especially at a time like this, but he just couldn't help himself. He had never seen his brother like this before.

Sesshoumaru made no reply, simply turned to look at his brother. Why was he here? Did his sick little mind find pleasure in dredging up the darkness in his heart? Reveling in his weakness? No matter, it was none of the hanyou's business. He didn't even deem the question worthy of an answer.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

"Hello." Inuyasha's face paled as the faint squalor of a voice sounding suspiciously like Shippo sounded across the line. "Ok, I'll get him down there."

Sesshoumaru quirked a brow at his brothers antics. He hadn't even been aware of his brother still keeping contact with the agency after his retirement.

"Naraku's sent you a message. He knows it was you Sess and he's pissed."

* * *

**New York City;  
Underground Miasma Headquarters  
Sunday, June 19th ; 6:22 am Eastern Pacific Time**

Kagome became increasingly nervous as the night progressed into morning. She knew it had to be extremely late, or early depending on how you looked at it. Having forgotten her watch she couldn't be exactly sure, but she knew she'd been there for several hours. She probably should have been exhausted, but adrenaline and fear were more potent than coffee.

She had been dragged from Naraku's….Onigumo's…who ever he really was…office and down several flights of stairs. On the lower levels she had been witness to the writhing hoards of thugs that associated themselves with scum like Naraku. Some were obviously youkai, but some indistinguishable from humans aside from an odd sort of foreboding feeling she got from them. Dark aura's.

Of course she'd come into contact with humans possessing darker aura's than some Youkai.

On one level there was an arsenal large enough to take out most of Manhattan: a genetics testing lab where they were studying the effects of certain poisons on demon blood, and a logistics lab that could revel that of the pentagon. Most incriminatingly to her weary mind though was that she had seen Naraku's face, and she dismally noted that he did not even allow most of his men that privilege.

All in all it didn't bode well for her mortality.

For the last two hours she had been sitting on a leather chase lounge in a small sitting room with an odd cross dressing guard armed with a sword that he kept slung over his shoulder. The man cast her dirty looks every now and again, just for good measure she was sure. When she'd first been tossed in there for 'safe keeping' he had been sure to let her know that her 'wicked female sorcery' wouldn't work on him and not to bother trying.

All that just for asking his name.

A strange sutra had bound her wrists together, though why they didn't just use duct tape she couldn't understand. Granted she was of a miko bloodline, but she had never perused her training so what little powers she may have possessed lay dormant and harmless. Some of the beliefs of the miko council were horribly archaic and prejudiced and Kagome just couldn't bring herself to relate with such an association.

The door was suddenly slung open and in walked the baboon pelted Naraku followed closely by the same elegant woman who had come into his office earlier with the pictures of Sesshou.

His smile was shadowed by the mask, but Kagome could practically feel the malice he exuded. He extended a delicate hand, a hand that had shed the blood of so many, both directly and indirectly, so many lives snuffed out for the sake of his ambition. In what she was sure would be one of her last acts of defiance, she turned up her nose and rose to her feet unassisted. She saw him smirk beneath the mask as he graciously held his hand forward indicating her to exit the room.

Shooting him a questioning glare, Kagome began to nervously shuffle toward the open door. "Where are we going?" She demanded as a forceful hand was placed at her back.

"We're just going to send a little message to your 'lover'." He sneered in her ear.

"Why would you want to do that?" She demanded harshly fighting against him as much as she dared, with her hands bound there wasn't much she could do. "Surely he doesn't make enough money to pay any worthwhile ransom for me. Besides, You've let me see too much." She knew she was being bold, but what did it really matter at this point. Besides, Sesshou's 'wife' probably wouldn't be to happy with him paying out a hefty ransom for his mistress anyway. The thought made her stomach heave.

"Clever girl." Naraku chuckled darkly, taking one of her arms into a sharp grip. "I can see why he kept you around, but do tell me what does 'Sesshou' do."

"What do you mean what does he do? He's an investment banker, why?"

Naraku laughed out right. Kagura, the leggy brunet following him, unleashed a deep feminine chuckle as well. "Investment banker indeed."

"What are you laughing about? What's so funny about banking?" Kagome was finding her patience wearing thin.

"To be such a clever girl you certainly are oblivious to such a great fallacy. Perhaps it falls under the old adage 'love is blind', hm?"

"What are you saying?"

They entered a large room with a strange gray canvas back drop behind them and an abundance of overhead lights. It was almost blindingly bright. In front of them was what looked to be a television camera linked directly into a laptop computer.

"I am saying that your dear 'Sesshou' is most certainly not an investment banker."

A large man suddenly grabbed Kagome roughly from behind and she found her self bridled with a coarse linen gag. She began to struggle as best she could in the man's grip, but a sudden sharp pain at the back of her neck rendered her limp and helpless, yet still painfully conscious.

She wondered vaguely if he had snapped her neck. None of her appendages seemed to be obeying her, hanging like dead weight at her sides.

"Now, smile for the camera my dear."

* * *

**New York City, Financial District  
Central Intelligence Agency, New York Headquarters  
Sunday, June 19th 8:42 am Eastern Pacific Time**

Sesshoumaru strode up to the front steps of Smith & Wallace, the CIA's public façade, still wearing the dirty and blood stained clothing from the night before. Inuyasha trailed not too far behind warding off any suspicious looks with quiet mumblings about getting mugged and a nasty bar fight.

With out a word to the guard he entered the building heading directly for the elevators, Inuyasha in tow. Passing the finger printing and voice recognition, he strode impatiently into the lobby of the Central Intelligence Agency, New York headquarters. Shippo was sitting on the receptionists desk looking unusually solemn. The sleeves of his green button down shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his head was bowed in a desolate fashion.

"You have twenty minutes. Lets get this over with." Sesshoumaru stated blandly and instead of putting up a fight like Shippo had been sure he would. Shippo merely nodded and jumped down off the counter heading for the main logistics room where Kaede and the rest of his team had already assembled.

All of them were looking anxious and despondent, none seemed quite able to meet his eyes. Sesshoumaru stopped just inside the door frame, his arms hanging limply at his side as he studied the occupants in the room. He could sense the tension and fear in the air, something unusual in a room full of iron wrought operatives - they were trained to handle anything. The only one who seemed in any state of coherence was Kaede and even she seemed to be looking at him with grave form.

Inuyasha came bustling in behind him, giving Sesshoumaru a slight bump as he brushed by. "So what's so important that you had to drag me down here too?" He grumped out in his usual gruff manner that became his trademark when he was still with the agency.

Kaede's face, if possible, turned even more grim and Sango burst into tears, turning into Miroku's shoulder. "We have received a message…" she began grimly, "…or rather you have received a message."

Sesshoumaru could feel the trepidation building to a stifling level in the air and gave a tight nod for the old woman to continue. Kaede motioned for Shippo to play the message and with a dejected sigh he got up from his seat and moved to the lap top at a nearby desk station.

The 40 inch LCD screen hanging over head that had been sporting a classy CIA logo rotating around a marbled looking globe sprung to life as Shippo skillfully manipulated the keyboard.

The screen went blue, then black, before a soft music filtered over the speakers. Unless he was mistaken it was the opera 'Oh Fortuna'. The black faded to gray and two figures appeared on the screen, though their silhouettes were still fuzzy the one on the left was easy enough to decipher.

Naraku was standing center stage so to speak, clad in his usual baboon pelt. A tall man was standing next to him and as the picture came into focus he could see that it was one of Naraku's goons wearing a bland white mask and holding a much smaller body that was slumped uncomfortably forward revealing only a cascade of remarkable dark hair.

"Ah, Sesshoumaru." Naraku began as the music hit a rather passionate crescendo. "I do so love the classics don't you?" He made a few grand motions with his hands.

"You are a difficult man to get a hold of Sesshoumaru, rather like myself. I must say I admire that in you."

Sesshoumaru grimaced. _What is he up to?_

"Your little stunt last night was quite the piece of art. I enjoy art Sesshoumaru. Do you enjoy art…Sesshoumaru?" Naraku's voice was beginning to take on a sinister edge the further into his twisted one sided conversation he got. "Well, let me show you a little art project I'm working on."

A small box was wheeled on screen by a leggy woman who was also wearing a white mask. Naraku flipped the lid open, but it was nearly impossible to see what was inside. A digital clock-like device was affixed to the front of the box, the red numerals blazing like a fire in his soul.

_48:00, Son of a_…

All thought came to a halt as a graceful hand reached out and grasped a handful of the hair blocking the small body being held next to him and jerked it back.

* * *

**New York City  
Underground Miasma Headquarters  
Sunday, June 18th, 8:45 am Eastern Pacific Time**

Kagome felt a hand grip the back of her hair and harshly jerk her head up. Unfortunately in her odd paralysis she was still perfectly coherent and could feel and hear everything going on around her.

_How the hell did he do that?_ She wondered bitterly as she felt her gag wetting with her saliva as she fought to get it out of her mouth with her tongue. Naraku kept saying Sesshoumaru. Was he talking about Sesshou? It really didn't matter who he was talking to, if she could get the gag out of her mouth she would scream out exactly who the bastard was and where the headquarters was located. What would it matter, they were going to kill her anyways.

"Pretty isn't she?" Naraku crooned in her ear. "But…you already know that don't you? Tell me, does she taste as sweet as she smells?" He pressed the baboon mask right up against her neck as he drew in a deep breath. "Hm…I can still smell a distinctively male scent on her. Is that you Sesshoumaru?" He gave a small chuckle. "I wonder…will she still smell of you when I'm through with her?"

Kagome whimpered through the gag and Naraku laughed out right. "What's this? Did you teach your bitch to whine like a dog? Very nice." He gripped her chin in his hand. "Very nice indeed."

He released her head and it promptly flopped foreword. Kagome watched through the curtain of her hair as he pulled an intimidating syringe out of the wooden box that had been wheeled out on a cart next to him. There was what looked to be a digital counter of some sort attached to the front of the box, set at forty-eight hours, but whether that meant military time or if it had some other meaning she didn't know. In the glass vial on the syringe she could see an ominous looking purplish-green liquid that bubbled as if unstable. Just looking at it made Kagome's eyes widen and her whimpers increase.

"Ah, can you hear that? It is beautiful, no?" Naraku sneered. "There really is nothing more…arousing than the sound of a woman's fear." He held up the syringe, pushing out all the air and giving the end of the three inch needle a tap.

"As I was saying earlier Sesshoumaru, you're little stunt was a sensational piece of art, and I, as an art dealer of sorts, never put the originals out with in the reach of the public riffraff."

Naraku nodded to the man holding Kagome and her head was yet again jerked up. " I wouldn't want you to miss the look on her pretty little face as I set the clock running. You shouldn't have toyed with devil boy, he knows how to manipulate fire."

Naraku roughly grabbed Kagome's arm and shoved the needle in. Kagome screamed, though it was muffled by the gag. The liquid felt like ice going through her veins. She could actually feel it traveling up her arm as the coldness swept over her shoulder and down her chest. A feeling of fierce nausea swept over her as the needle was pulled out of her arm.

"Now that I have your attention." Naraku began again dropping the now empty syringe back into the box and turning on the timer. "You have forty-eight hours Sesshoumaru. If you deliver the Shikon, I will deliver your bitch and the antidote. If not, well… I will release her somewhere down town. The subway perhaps." Naraku took her delicate chin into his grip once more, a few silent tears began to stream down her cheeks. "or maybe La Guardia airport.

"You know, I never thought you'd be one to sully your blood line with a filthy human, but the apple never falls far from the tree does it? Your father was a tough one too, but I got to him in the end as well. Dog's are funny that way…you have to take out the bitch to bring the bastard to his knees."

Kagome whimpered once more as her head was dropped back to her chest. Naraku's maniacal laughter filled the room over powering the background music.

"Forty-eight hours Sesshoumaru. I'll be in touch."

* * *

AN: AAARGH! Ok who hates me? That's ok, its all for good reason and I do like happy endings, so don't worry they'll be some flat tires and twists in the road, but we'll make it to Disney world in the end. Thank you so much to all of you out there who are reviewing for me, I love the feed back. It's really encouraging. I hope you guys are enjoying my story so far, and don't forget to let me know what you think. Just click that little button down there and speak your peace. Thanks a bunch…  
U.C. 


	7. The Red

AN: Hello out there! Well here it is, extra long as requested. I hope you enjoy. Just a little side note, my personal soundtrack for the first part of this chapter was 'The Red' By Chevelle.

**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter 7**

_The Red_

* * *

**New York City, Financial District  
Central Intelligence Agency, New York Headquarters  
Sunday, June 19th, 9:05 am Eastern Pacific Time  
47 hours 40 minutes until Archangel release**

The crisis room went deathly still.

No one moved, no one dared to even breathe, as several pairs of nervous eyes cast helplessly concerned looks at the black lacquered table beneath their sweating palms. The atmosphere had become palpable, alive with a static-like feeling that had every hair on the back of every neck standing on end.

Sesshoumaru Takishima was a dangerous man under normal conditions, an unthinkable force to be reconed with in a crisis, and this was so much worse than anything they had ever dealt with in the past. A code Black situation...and it was personal.

A low growl reverberated off the walls, resonant enough to shake the water in the glass that sat near Sango's trembling hand on the glossy surface of the conference table. No one seemed able to summon the courage to speak, except Inuyasha who kept chanting "son of a bitch" in a quiet, subdued voice.

A nervous tension built in the room as Sesshoumaru's Jaki rose to nearly suffocating levels.

Sango let out a tiny choked scream, causing nearly everyone in the room to jump, as the water goblet crashed to the floor, having danced its way over the edge by the force of Sesshoumaru's monstrous rage.

Miroku looked to Inuyasha, silently trying to formulate a plan should things get out of hand. The monk knew he could not seal the frighteningly powerful Tai alone, and Inuyasha, while formidable, would not be able to subdue his brother if he truly fell pray to his hell born urges.

But Sesshoumaru knew that he was slipping into a blood rage and was trying to garner control.

He also knew that with out the regulator there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

There weren't many demons left that could stand against his bloodline, especially not one in his prime and at the level of power Sesshoumaru had achieved.

He could destroy half the city in his true form before anyone had the chance to even attempt to take him down.

Of course that wouldn't help Kagome, and even if he ripped this god-forsaken city a new asshole, the chances of him finding Kagome in such a way were slim.

With a level of control that was almost unimaginable he clamped down on his instinct to transform - the urge to taste the tang of warm blood in his mouth, and feel the crunch of bones in his teeth.

Eyes still red and a low growl still rumbling in his chest, Sesshoumaru managed to speak in throaty, broken sentences.

"Track him."

"I'm working on it." Shippo said in a near panic as his fingers raced across the keyboard of his ever-present laptop. Right now they needed to do all they could to appease the extremely powerful and extremely pissed off demon before them, and Sesshoumaru felt a mild prickling of respect at the fact that they did so with out hesitation.

In a bold move Inuyasha placed an awkwardly mollifying hand on his brothers shoulder, but quickly removed it when the growl upped a notch.

It wasn't that Sesshoumaru was angry with his brother for the attempt, but anything was liable to set him off at the moment. It was better he was given his space.

Still, it was a matter of pride to him that his brother would so readily stand with him in this.

"What about this Shikon? What do we need to do to get it?" Inuyasha barked quickly, hoping that some answers might quell the beast fighting for release in the raging Tai.

Kaede sighed heavily, pushing her tired old body from her creaking leather chair. "The Shikon is in the central vault in Washington. It has been sealed for (twenty three) years with seven interlinking circles of sutra inside a solid titanium safe and is guarded twenty-four hours a day by a hand picked elite guard of specially trained operatives. The jewel is capable of unimaginable power, and we don't even know the half of what it can do because it was deemed best to seal it after half of the research team went insane simply from coming in contact with it. If the likes of Naraku were to get his hands on it…"

"But if the Archangel is released into the public…" Miroku countered letting his sentence trail off.

"What exactly is the Archangel?" Inuyasha asked the young dark haired agent. "And what about Kagome, lets not forget we're talking about a person here, not just a threat."

"I will get her back." Sesshoumaru ground out.

"I have no doubt that you will." Miroku conceded. "However it would be prudent to have the Shikon on hand should Naraku prove more devious than anticipated."

"I agree." Sango added quietly.

Sesshoumaru bit back a snarl at the hit to his pride, but deep down he had to agree, it was the logical thing to do. And securing the antidote was every bit as important as retrieving Kagome.

He could feel his Jaki retracting a bit and the blood was starting to fade from his eyes. It was a good thing too, he would be of no use in a blind rage and he had to be on top of his game to find her in time.

Between his tracking skills and Shippo's hacking abilities, he should be able to locate her before it was too late.

"It is settled then." Kaede said with a whip-like snap in her voice. "Inuyasha, are you willing to come back aboard for this? I need someone I can trust to go to Washington and retrieve the Shikon." She gave him a piercing look, trying to impose the seriousness of the situation. "Not that I need to remind you, but once the Shikon is removed from the vault it will be brought out of stasis. We can keep it contained to a certain degree, but the jewel gives off a powerfully alluring aura. It is likely that its power will be detected by Youkai with heightened sensitivity to spiritual anomalies."

Inuyasha cast a sidelong look at his brother before nodding firmly. "I'll take care of it."

Kaede nodded in kind, but her look darkened. "It goes with out saying that it must not be allowed fall into the wrong hands. The Shikon may try to temp you to use its power. It will (indubitably) draw the attention of those with in range who have a weak will and a thirst for (power). You may encounter problems with demons during transport."

"Keh. Like that'd be a problem. I can take out anything that comes my way."

"Let us hope so. If we have to resort to handing it over to Naraku…"

"Naraku will be dead before he has a chance to use it." Sesshoumaru vowed, the blinding rage starting to dissipate slightly though his instincts still screamed for blood. _And I will have it_, he silently swore.

Kaede nodded, knowing not to oppose him at a time like this. Her look was troubled though, the heavy lines in her face creasing more than usual. "Inuyasha, you and Koga will be in charge of retrieving the Shikon. Everyone else will be involved with the locating and containing of the Archangel."

"And Naraku?" Koga asked. He was clicking his ballpoint pen (rapidly) in his clenched hand – a nervous tic.

"Naraku is _mine_." Sesshoumaru rasped darkly, enraged that another would dare even insinuate otherwise. The pseudo-hanyou was _his_ prey, and his alone. He would revel in the feel of the man's blood sliding over his hands as he tore him apart.

"Of course." Miroku interjected smoothly before Koga could unintentionally start something he was ill prepared to finish. "I suppose capture would be optimal for any suspected of working with or for him though?"

"Yes." Kaede agreed, adding seriously, "this is not a no kill order, though. Use any force necessary. We also need to set up (stealth teams/sting) to bug and tail the handful of men on our watch list. They could lead us to him if we're lucky."

"Right. Because he's obviously a complete idiot." Inuyasha added snidely, earning a stomped toe courtesy of Ayame, who was sitting closest to the loudmouth.

"Very well, then." Miroku stood and helped Sango to her feet, careful to help her side step the broken glass that still lay strewn across the floor. "I'll take care of the watch list."

"Excellent." Kaede briskly pushed her chair up to the table, a sign for everyone still seated to rise. "Shippo will be in charge of hacking any and all known databases both national and international."

The young genus cracked a wicked grin. "You want me to get in touch with our overseas friends in the surveillance business?"

The old chief nodded. "Ayame, bleed our sources dry. Threaten them. Bribe them. Injure them if you have to, but we need all the information we can gather."

"Got it." The perky red head was all business as she headed swiftly out the door, already pulling her sat-phone to her ear.

"Let's get this bastard." Her team gave a round of determined nods, and Inuyasha added a 'hell yeah' for good measure. She paused as they split up, each team leaving to accomplish their assigned tasks.

You could see in the firm set of her eyes that she believed fully in these people to carry out any task placed before them, no matter how insurmountable. Sesshoumaru sighed, watching her closely, wishing he had the same faith.

"I'm not going to assign you to any team, Sesshoumaru." She said once the room was empty. "You know more than most what kind of threat Naraku is. If I thought I could I'd pull you from the mission completely. It's too personal and you are entirely too emotionally involved." She looked him dead in the eye, completely unafraid. "But," she conceded, "I know better than to try to bar you. You'd only go off on your own with out back up."

"I don't need back up."

"Yes, yes. Didn't we get past this in your rookie days?" An amused grin tugged at the corner of her lips slightly, pushing the flesh of her face around absurdly.

It made Sesshoumaru realize that she really was getting old. Sometimes it was difficult to notice anything beyond her tougher-than-steel grit and determination. She was, he would have to admit, a remarkable leader.

"Regardless," she continued, her face falling back into its usual down-to-business (set), "I want you in contact with base at all times, do you hear. No excuses. I'm giving you full access to the full arsenal of agency resources. Anything you need, consider it yours. All operatives will be reporting in to Shippo, who will relay everything via Com." She sighed. "I don't suppose it would be prudent to have a new regulator chip implanted."

"It would not." Not that he would have allowed it even if she'd made it an order.

"Very well, then. You've never let me down, boy. Let's not break the record, eh?"

He nodded. He had no intentions of failing. It was not even an option.

His shoulders tensed, fingers clenching against the seam of his trousers as Kaede's wrinkled lips pursed in concern at what she had to say next.

"Sesshoumaru, if the antidote is not recovered with in the forty-eight hours…the host must be terminated."

**

* * *

New York City  
Underground Miasma Headquarters  
Sunday, June 19th, 11:45 am Eastern Pacific Time  
45 hours until Archangel release**

Kagome groaned as she pulled her head up from the cold, hard floor beneath her. Good God she felt horrible! She made a mental note to personally kill Eri, Yuka, and Ami for dragging her out last night. Hangovers were so not her thing.

Propping herself up on her elbows she blearily looked around trying to figure out where exactly she'd passed out and why her mouth tasted like moldy cotton. The whole night was kind of a blur, and she had the craziest dream…

Her eyes widened, whole body tensing as she leapt unsteadily to her feet. She was in some sort of filthy cell, complete with iron bars and a cross dressing guard standing across the hall with an impatient tilt to his hip.

_Not a dream_… She thought horrified. _How…how could it not be a dream_?

She felt hopelessness creep over her as the events of the previous night and early morning washed over her like a good dousing in cold water. The last thing she remembered was that sicko Naraku dragging her in front of a movie camera and talking to Sesshoumaru, who she could only assume was supposed to be Sesshou.

The man was obviously insane.

But he wasn't a man, was he? Not really anyway. She could sense it when he touched her, even though he had it well masked. He was a demon, or at least part demon, but it had felt tainted and unnatural. His aura writhed like snakes; it felt like a demon, possibly more than one, had been crushed into the body of a man.

Or a man who had a demon's soul…

He had said something about an antidote and 48 hours, but she'd been too overwhelmed to really listen to what he was saying.

What the hell did he pump into her anyways? The spot still burned where he'd stuck her with the needle. Her body ached like she was coming down with a nasty case of the flu, and her head felt like it was caught in a vice.

What a lovely way to start the day. Or night. Hell, she didn't even know what time it was!

She pushed herself up on shaky legs and wobbled over to the bars, blearily noting the lack of luxury they had provided her with. There was literally nothing in the cell aside from her person. No cot, no filthy toilet, not even a flickering light bulb. The only light she had filtered in from the hallway.

"Hey…" She tried to call out to the guard, but all she managed was a broken squeak. After clearing her throat she tried again. "Hey!"

She was surprised at the lack of haughty arrogance in the face of her guard. The angry, irritated individual she seemed to remember from before had been replaced by an extremely nervous looking young man who, even at this moment, was trying desperately to back away from her.

_What's his problem?_ She thought with a frown. An inkling of trepidation trickled into her belly, making it clench painfully, but she tried to brush it aside. It terrified her to even _think_ on it at the moment.

"Hey…can I get some water or something?"

He gave her a speculative look before conceding with out word or gesture, heading out of sight down the hall.

What was up with that? No rude comments, no haughty proclamations about evil females, not even a dirty look. Fingers curling lightly around the bitingly cold metal bars separating her from freedom, Kagome allowed herself to slide to the floor. She resting her forehead against the cool metal, forcibly trying to restore order to the chaotic hoard of thoughts rampaging through her aching head.

One thing was indelibly clear though: she had to figure out a way to escape.

A dull ache seemed to thrum throughout her entire body in time with her fluttering pulse. She couldn't help but wonder what she'd done in life to deserve this? Maybe it was that time she accidentally locked Sota in the porta-potty during the little league world series. It wasn't like she'd tipped it over afterwards though, and Sota hadn't been _that_ mad. He'd forgiven her…eventually.

Hushed voices were carried down the hall, the empty corridor acting as an amplifier for the muted conversation.

"She's making me nervous Banko. She don't really look sick yet, but I've seen what that shit does to people. I don't care if Naraku says there's a 48-hour incubation period or whatever. She should still be in a bio chamber."

Kagome's breath caught painfully in her throat, her pulse doubling almost immediately.

"Eh, quit your whining Jakotsu. If Naraku says there's a 48-hour incubation period before the virus spreads, then there's a 48-hour incubation period. If he's not worried about it then you shouldn't be either."

"Yeah, but he's got the antidote. Of course he's not worried."

"Hm, I suppose. Just don't touch her. You'll be ok."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one guarding her. She was trying to give me 'sexy eyes' earlier." He made a disgusted sound. "It was disgusting."

"Yeah, yeah. You can stand down a whole throng of heat packing cops, but one little unarmed woman makes eyes at you and you fall apart."

_Sexy eyes!_ Kagome snort incredulously. It lacked any sort of amusement though, so it came out more of a phlegmy grunt. _As if._

Kagome was by no means a scholar, but she had always considered herself a fairly intelligent person, and the phrases incubation period, virus, and bio chamber rang a foreboding bell that shook her from the inside out.

Her hands trembled where the sides of her thumbs pressed lightly at her temples. She didn't have to traverse any dark paths of thought to realize that they had done something horrible to her. Now there were only questions.

Why her?

What exactly was this virus they pumped into her?

Was she going to die? Would there be pain?

It was faintly shaming that she so numbingly frightened of the last. She shook head to dispel the thoughts. Now was not the time to wallow in fear and self-pity.

Concentrating on clarity, she tried to force her mind into peaceful blankness. She was only moderately successful, but it was enough to help her think. Sesshou had once told her that there was only one way to adequately deal with an impossible situation:

Assess the dilemma with a clear, calm head

Explore all possible avenues of escape logically

When your opening appears, and one always does, no NOT hesitate

All of this was pretty much void if, like her, one was completely in the dark about the cacophony of events sweeping her along like a leaf caught in (case) 5 rapids. In order to fully analyze her situation she needed to know more about what was actually going on. It would help her gain a handle on her ragged emotions. It would help her properly consider her next move. And it would help her understand why she had been dragged into this to begin with.

With a shaky breath and a quick swipe of her hands across her cheeks to wipe away the tears that had left trails there, Kagome stood, resolute in her decision despite the quaking that still ravaged her. Blowing out a steadying breath, and trying on her fiercest face, she turned to face the approaching steps of her guard.

She wanted answers, and she was going to get them if she had to tear this whole building down one piece at a time. Her eyes took on a devilish slant as Jakotsu swaggered toward her, a glass of water held loosely in his manicured hand.

**

* * *

**

**New York City, Financial District  
CIA Headquarters, Armory locker  
Sunday, June 19th 9:22 am. Eastern Pacific Time**  
**47 Hours 23 Minutes until Archangel Release**

The main armory for the CIA was impressive enough, but agents with the kind of rank and security clearance that Sesshoumaru held were privy to the _crown jewels_, so to speak. At the back of the main arsenal locker was a DNA scanner requiring a finger prick in order to gain access.

Inuyasha waited anxiously behind his brother. He was both nervous and excited about the upcoming mission.

Don't get the wrong idea, he was worried about Kags just as much as Sess was, but lets face it, hotel security just couldn't hold a candle against the adrenaline pumping excitement of working for the agency.

Inuyasha quit working for the government two years ago, after he lost his partner in a terrible accident. It really wasn't his fault - even the tribunal found him faultless of her death, but he blamed himself regardless. After that he just couldn't see any reason for fighting anymore. He always missed it though and wondered if he'd made the right decision by retiring.

Is it what Kikyo really would have wanted him to do?

Kikyo was one of his closest friends. She was patient with him, taking him under her wing when he was fresh out of the academy and greener than an unripe tomato with an arrogant streak the size of the East River. It had been hard for him, after mother died, and he was left wanting in the ways of a father when his own sunk into an endless cycle of over work and depression. The only real male role model he had was Sesshoumaru.

Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but by the time Inuyasha joined the agency (on his brothers recommendation no less) Sesshoumaru was already well established in his career and was one of the most well respected demons on the force. Sesshoumaru had a big shadow to stand in, and it made the younger Takishima a bit irritable.

Well, nonetheless to say, during a drug raid Inuyasha made a bad decision, which combined with a bad decision made by Kikyo herself, resulted in a fatal gunshot wound to the chest. It would have been little more than a flesh wound if he'd have taken the hit.

Inuyasha was officially cleared of blame, but he never forgave himself.

Shaking himself of such thoughts he looked around in awe at the shit load of top secret weapons stored, some of them even made there, in the back room of the arsenal. Glass cases adorned the walls displaying weapons he could have only thought up in the wildest of dreams.

Guns, both semi and automatic, lined one wall in sizes from little pea shooters on dainty hooks, smaller even than his cell phone, all the way up to monstrous shoulder-mounted cannons that looked suspiciously like rocket launchers.

A feral grin revealed a pointed canine. That was what he wanted.

On the opposite wall was a case of Youkai blades. They were interesting enough to sway his attention from the varied array of impulse detonators, a personal favorite of the white haired hanyou.

Infused blades were hazardous to both the wielder and the one on business end of those skillfully forged weapons. If the wielder was not strong enough, the dark youki contained with in the sword had been known to drive a man, or youkai, insane.

They were dangerous, lethal, and completely illegal. Inuyasha was in a state of bliss.

He was acting like a little kid, running along the wall pressing his face to each case in turn as if it were a part of the Macy's Christmas display. He also knew that Sesshoumaru was precariously unstable at the moment and would not hesitate to knock him through one of the titanium-enforced walls if he pissed him off, but really, he couldn't help himself.

Youkai blades were prized and coveted, the kind of stuff legends were made of. These had to be practically Neolithic: Inuyasha was pretty sure there weren't any more sword smiths around that had the skill and control to forge them properly.

Man! What he wouldn't give to get his hands on one of those.

As he was opening his mouth to ask about them, a disgusting wet hacking had him spinning on his heels in alarm. For a split second he was afraid that Sesshoumaru had injured himself, ridiculous as it seemed, but what he found was far more disturbing.

An old man, looking to be in at least his ninety's, sat on a small reed mat against the back wall hacking like he was about to cough up a lung. A heavy mallet leaned innocently against the wall next to him. Any comment Inuyasha was about to make died on the back of his tongue as he sent his brother a confused glance.

"What the…how'd you get in here old man?" he barked when the old mans coughing subsided. "This place is supposed to be secured."

"And it is. I built it myself, you disrespectful little whelp." The old man replied.

Inuyasha found himself oddly comforted by his feistiness. If the old man had enough fire in him to sling insults then he probably wasn't dying. At least not right away.

Still. He called him a whelp!

"I ain't no whelp, Jijii." He growled, shaking a balled fist at his baldhead in an empty threat.

"Inuyasha, this is Totosai, Master Sword Smith. Totosai, this disrespectful whelp is my brother." Sesshoumaru introduced with a distinct air of disinterest while unbuttoning his shirt. He crossed to a case on the right side of the room, shouldering a brown leather holster and two lethal looking desert eagles.

Inuyasha noted uneasily that his brother chose clips pre-loaded with miko purifying bullets.

"Ahhhh." Totosai groused rubbing his hand over his long, scraggly beard. "So this is the youngest Takahashi. What a shame."

"Oi!" That was it. Old or not, Inuyasha was really going to hit him this time. "What exactly is a _shame_ about me?"

It was an old wound, one he was still sensitive about. No matter how much human/Youkai relations improved, there would still be those who were opposed to mixed blood.

"I expected you to be better looking." The old man quipped with a shrug.

Inuyasha's jaw went slack, flabbergasted at the remark. He had expected…well, it didn't matter what he had expected. The old man was cheeky. Normally Inuyasha had a fine appreciation for well-played cheek, but something about the old man just rubbed him the wrong way.

Better looking, indeed. He was every bit as eye pleasing as his brother, possibly even more so depending on tastes. "Listen here you old…"

Sesshoumaru's irritated growl was more than enough to cease the bickering building between the two. It didn't, however, stop old man Totosai from blowing a silent raspberry (how the hell he managed to do it with out making the noise was a mystery), nor did it stop Inuyasha from bearing his teeth in reply.

Sesshoumaru re-buttoned his shirt, a small gun concealed flat against the skin over his kidneys, while the thick leather straps of the holster for his desert eagles crossed over the back of the white, blood stained dress shirt. Ignoring the other two completely, Sesshoumaru continued to snap, strap, and tie on various weapons saving the most important for last.

Inuyasha could feel the tension rolling off his brother in tangible waves. Oh yes, Sesshoumaru was pissed. Naraku would be lucky if there were enough pieces of him left to fit in a shoebox. He just hoped he had the strength of mind to obtain the antidote before he blew him into bits of sticky flesh.

As far back as Inuyasha could remember, Sesshoumaru had never been anything if not controlled, even in his youth. That was the principle that guided his life; even his relationship with Kagome he held himself on a tight leash, so to speak.

Inuyasha could see it plain as day, having known his brother all his life: Sesshoumaru was in love with the poor girl. Whatever attracted Kagome to the jerk to begin with had to be solid: she wouldn't have put up with him for so long otherwise.

Yup. She'd wormed her way under his skin with her passionately tender hearted ways; it was inevitable that he would fall for her. Now she was stuck with the indelible ass.

Though for an overly egocentric youkai who sees love as a weakness, and sees any weakness as unacceptable, being in love certainly can cause some serious psychosis. Hell, it took him a year to propose to her when he probably knew after being around her for a few hours that she was the one he would take as a mate.

Not to mention the fact that she was human, but that's another psychoanalysis all together.

_Poor Kagome_, he thought sadly as he pulled a gleaming set of 9mm off the wall. _She must be terrified_. He checked the chamber, satisfied with the well-oiled slide and metallic click. _Not to mention she probably still thinks Sesshoumaru's married.  
_

A rusted katana in a case near the back wall, separated from the rest, caught his eye. It didn't look like much: the blade all nicked and tattered. Actually, it didn't look like it would even cut paper, let alone cause any real damage.

Moving as if drawn to the sword, he bent forward to take a closer look. It was kind of pathetic, and now that he was concentrating on it, he realized that there didn't seem to be any youki coming off the blade either.

What was it doing here? It looked more like it belonged in a museum than a state of the art arsenal.

With deft fingers that seemed to act of their own accord, he lifted the lid and removed the old sword.

"What's up with this?" He questioned waiving the rusted blade around haphazardly.

Sesshoumaru barely sent him a second glance, too occupied stocking himself up like the Fourth of July. Totosai wasn't nearly so preoccupied though, and the old man had a rather interesting reaction to Inuyasha's manhandling of his product.

An ethereal wail built up in the small room, echoing off the walls, and forcing Inuyasha's ears back in effort to drown the horrible noise. Totosai was tugging at his ratty beard and pointing a gnarled finger at Inuyasha howling dramatically.

"Eh?" He leaned forward, taking in a slow breath through his nose. The old man stunk, but other than his general lack of hygiene he seemed fine. No scent of dilapidating illness, no reek of impending death. Perplexed, Inuyasha shouted over the din "What's your problem, Jijii?"

The old man continued his throaty lamentation. Inuyasha was torn between turning tail and running, and knocking the old fart unconscious. It kind of felt wrong to be so rough with the elderly, but the temptation was strong. Before he could overcome his reservations, albeit small ones, Sesshoumaru took care of the situation.

"ENOUGH!" The Tai bellowed with enough force to make even _him_ tremble, and Inuyasha was used to his brothers temper. Totosai ceased his howling instantaneously.

After a few tense moments of basking in the full force of his terrifying glare, Sesshoumaru dismissed them from his attention and went back to his task leaving his brother and the old smith to start breathing again.

"That is Tetsusaiga." Totosai began explaining, casting a gauging sidelong glance at Sesshoumaru. His weeping had stopped as suddenly as it started and Inuyasha was starting to doubt the old fool's sanity. "Oh, my pride and joy going to such a disrespectful mutt."

"This is your pride and joy?" Wait. "Who the hell are you calling a mutt? And how am _I _the disrespectful one?"

"I SAID ENOUGH!" Sesshoumaru once again demanded silence, and the other two quickly fell mute. If the elder Takishima felt the need to raise his voice, he likely wasn't far from raising his youki whip as well. "I want the key to Tokijin's locker."

Totosai's face paled considerably. "Are you sure Sesshoumaru-sama? Tokijin has never been successfully wielded before."

Sesshoumaru flashed a glare that spoke plenty about his resolve, and it sent the old man scrambling off his mat and over to a locked steel compartment against the back wall.

An obscenely large metal ring holding an assortment of roughly shaped iron keys jangled heavily in his gnarled hands. Singling out a particularly foreboding black key, Totosai crammed the jagged edge into the lock, paused a moment, taking a shaky breath before forcefully giving it a turn.

The tumblers clicked into place with a deafening set of clicks: Inuyasha found himself tensing with each one.

As the door swung open Inuyasha could feel the jaki in the sword sweep out like a flood. He instinctively took a step back, his senses going haywire with the dark energy coming from the waves.

Then he noticed that the inside of the case was papered with a seriously unhealthy number of sutras.

"Sess, you sure that thing's really safe?"

Without the slightest hint of hesitation, Sesshoumaru boldly wrapped his hand around the hilt of the sword and pulled it from its sealing spell with a spray of blue sparks. Sesshoumaru tensed as the spirit of the sword attempted to tug at the edges of his sanity.

No, he acknowledged. This sword really wasn't safe for anyone any less powerful; but for him, the sword would bend to HIS will instead of the other way around. It didn't take much, but by pushing his youki down through the hilt of the sword he quickly got it to submit.

Tucking the sword through a loop on the side strap of his holster, Sesshoumaru turned and headed out of the armory with out a look back. Inuyasha was at a loss of words. He watched his brother walk out of the room with one of the most powerfully dangerous weapons he'd ever seen with out so much as a tic in his strictly rigid bearing.

He always knew Sesshoumaru was powerful, but this was a golden example of the true scope of his strength.

Picking his jaw up off the floor, he cast a last look at the old goat before heading after his brother. It looked like Totosai had fallen asleep standing up. With an eye roll he snatched up an ankle holster with a small, easily concealed hand gun and turned to leave.

"Don't you dent up that blade boy."

Inuyasha looked from the old man who was peeking at him from one cracked eye to the rusted old katana in his grip. "Keh." He smirked. "As if I could do any more damage to this piece of junk."

Inuyasha heard him grumbling about "ungrateful youth" and "disrespectful whelps" as the door sealed behind him.

Now it was down to business, and God help them if for some reason Kagome couldn't be located soon. Inuyasha didn't doubt for a second that Sesshoumaru would tear the city apart to find her if that's what it took.

* * *

AN: Don't forget to review for me! You know it makes me happy!

Until next time

U.C.


	8. Chaos Incarnate

**AN:** I'll be incredibly brief, but I just wanted to address the confusion about Sesshoumar's last name. As far as Kagome knows, his name is Sesshou Tadiama, who works at the investment banking firm which his family holds ties to, Tadiama Investors. His real name is Sesshoumaru Takishima, and we all know he is most certainly _not_ in the banking business. Hopefully all this will become more clear in the next couple of chapters. I will go back and check for errors though, so please let me know if you see any.

I also, in one of many incredible reviews(thanks guys!), got a great question about the tensaiga. I don't think I will introduce the sword in this story, as the plot doesn't seem to require it and it would just be forced, but it does lead to some interesting possibilities for a sequal, but that will have to wait until after TFB or I may be flogged...

**

* * *

**

**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter Eight**

_Chaos Incarnate_

* * *

**New York City**

**Project Miasma, Underground Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 1:45 pm EST**

**43 Hours to Archangel Release**

There just wasn't much good to say about the 10x10 concrete box they had her kenneled in: it was cold, dank, and filthy, she was cast in a dismal amount of filtered yellow light, which did nothing to brighten her already depressing situation, and there was a strong smell of moldy decay that clung to her clothes and hair like a parasite.

But, on the up side, the acoustics were fabulous!

CLANG

BANG

RATTLE

"I demand to speak to someone in charge NOW!" Kagome screeched at the top of her voice, giving the bars of her ratty cage a shake for emphasis. Her throat was beginning to get raw, cracking on the highest pitch, but she'd been screaming her head off for the better part of an hour now.

Her guard continued to stare at her blankly, as though what little bit of brain he may have possessed was as stagnant as the air in the dank dungeon. He was young, maybe sixteen - seventeen at most: far too young to be entangled in such a sordid criminal organization. But sadly he wasn't the only disaffected youth she'd seen scuffling down the hall, looking far too fierce and broken for their lack of years.

She had been watching carefully, trying every trick in the book to garner some attention and sympathy. From the few faces she'd seen passing her hovel, it seemed that Naraku attracted everything from the drugged out dregs of society to some pretty lethal looking seasoned fighters. Probably hired muscle.

But no matter what she tried, none of them would tell her anything. It was incredibly frustrating!

With an infuriated scream she kicked at the bars once more, the loud metallic clang ringing off the walls loudly. Her guard didn't even blink.

And now her foot hurt.

Kagome sighed loudly, glaring at the young man and almost daring to miss the fruit loop. The overly effeminate guard had bolted when they brought down her lunch: cold soup and stale crackers. She was pretty sure it was supposed to have been vegetable, but it looked like brown broth sparsely flavored with unidentifiable brown lumps.

Actually, it wasn't half bad if you didn't look at it, though that was probably the hunger talking. She had swallowed it down with zeal, barely noticing the taste as she savored her victory over Queenie McFroo-Froo.

Once Kagome had realized that the primped up man in the pink shirt and camouflage pants would jump like he'd been bitten every time she coughed, she'd made a game out of seeing just how high she could make him go. Unfortunately he didn't find it nearly as amusing. Now she was stuck with the drone.

Dark hair pulled into a low ponytail, and bangs that shadowed over expressionless eyes: he looked like a cast-off from The Night of the Living Dead set, minus the groaning and brain sucking.

Kagome sighed and slunk back into a corner.

She needed a new plan.

* * *

**New York City, Financial District**

**CIA Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 10:00 am EST**

**46 Hours 5 Minutes until Archangel Release**

"Seriously though," Inuyasha skipped forward to keep up with his brother's hurried strides, "does the old coot actually _live_ in there?" He pulled the rusted blade, Tetsusaiga, a few inches free of its sheath. Still rusted, still corroded, and still looking like it wouldn't even cut paper.

"I don't ask questions that I don't care to know the answers to." Sesshoumaru answered stiffly, turning down the corridor back toward the central control room where Shippo was hunting for leads.

Inuyasha slapped the battered old sword into its skin with a scowl, "Keh. I bet he does. Crazy old goat."

Sesshoumaru stepped through a door on the right that led to a room filled with the soft hum and whirr of at least two-dozen next generation computers, all running at top speed. The static charge in the air given off by the machines was enough to set the fine hairs on his arms on end.

He had never had much love for the things himself, but they served their purpose.

Shippo looked up nervously from his seated position behind a wide monitor, green eyes creased in concentration, and flaming red hair nearly brown where it stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He had been running every program known to man, and a few he'd been developing on his own, with nothing to show for it.

Sesshoumaru could tell just by the look on his face that things were not going well.

"Give us good news Shippo." Inuyasha demanded, spinning an empty chair around backwards and dropping into it.

"I...uh...I wish I could. It's like he's just dropped off the face of the earth. No trace of unidentifiable jaki, not even a sign of Kagome's aura. I don't understand it. Even as repressed as her power is, I should still be able to get a reading from it. It's like they've just disappeared."

"And what of Onigumo?" Sesshoumaru's fists tightened at his sides, but he forced a sense of calm.

"That's the weird part." Shippo swung his chair back and fourth with a nervous tension. "It seems like the entire public façade has been completely shut down. The phones at the corporate offices are all being directed to a public mailbox, and an operative scooping the building said its been closed up and cleared out, like they were never there to begin with."

"What?" Inuyasha's eyes were wide and incredulous. "How the hell does something like that slip under the radar? Don't we have people watching them?"

"Yeah, its crazy! I mean an organization that size, completely purged in one night. _And_ the building was under surveillance. How they did all that right under our noses…well, it's a little scary."

"Underground tunnels?" Sesshoumaru asked, walking around to look at the screen.

Shippo frowned, pulling up the satellite pictures, and then the buildings blue prints in a smaller pop-up box. "None that we've been able to find. Unlike the hotel, this building is rented."

"Who owns it?"

"What does that matter?" Inuyasha asked his brother with a quizzical look.

"There could be a connection." Shippo conceded, pulling up the information with swift keystrokes that echoed with a soft tap-tapping. "Its unlikely though. The building is owned by Rudolph Estrada of Estrada Real Properties, LTD. He's an old real estate mogul who hit his hay day thirty years ago, and has spent the last fifteen enjoying his millions while living on the coast of Greece. He supported a wild-card Libertarian candidate with some generous donations a few years back, but otherwise has no political or criminal connections."

"Who runs the company if he's in Greece?" Inuyasha piped up curiously, rolling his chair closer to get a look at the information scrolling on the screen.

"Um…managed by an accounting firm, reputable, no affiliation with any known contacts of Naraku."

Sesshoumaru flicked his hand impatiently. "Bring up the blue prints again." He stared for a long time at the three-dimensional building design, occasionally indicating with a gesture of his hand to enlarge here or zoom there.

A grim frown pulled at his mouth as he finally spoke. "Get me the city's zoning plans for that sector."

"Sure." It didn't take the technological genius long to pull exactly what Sesshoumaru wanted, regardless of the poor quality and sheer mass of information compiled about the city's underbelly.

An intense look of concentration covered his naturally stoic face. He signaled to zoom once, then once more, at a section of sewer line.

"This section is newer." He pointed out.

"Hey, yeah. You're right. I didn't see that. Looks like a bypass. Lets see where the old line ran."

It took a little longer, the information had been buried quite effectively, but Shippo wasn't the Agencies youngest ever Head of Technological Research and Development for nothing.

"It was coded?" Inuyasha sat forward, clearly surprised. "I didn't think public records were coded like that."

"They're not." Shippo said lightly, cracking the code in a matter of moments by running it through a program he had developed himself. "Its not a problem," the blue prints appeared on screen, and the teckie grinned smugly, "but it was done intentionally. Someone was trying to hide this."

The print was old, the scanned copy faded in some areas, crinkles from the original showing like a spider webbing of pale gray lines. It was still readable though.

Shippo blew out a low whistle through his teeth, leaning back in his chair and locking his hands behind his head. "You see that?"

Inuyasha squinted at the screen. "Looks like the old sewer line ran right under the building."

"Yup." Shippo agreed. "And take a lookie here," he clicked on a section of the page, zooming in.

"Well, shit." Inuyasha cursed softly. "I guess we know how they did it, then."

Apparently not only did the old sewer line run directly under the building, it seemed the complex had been built directly on top of an old access station. It connected to the buildings basement.

From the old line, they would have easy access to the bypassed line, and from there…from there they would have an unobstructed path to anywhere in the city.

"I want teams sweeping the sewers. If they're using the tunnels to get around, they may have a bunker furrowed out down there somewhere. I want youki tracers, thermo - scans, and DNA screens run all along those lines."

"Sure thing, boss." Shippo snapped to attention, sending out the urgent memo to Miroku's blackberry via e-mail. "If they're down there, we'll find them." He paused, considering his words carefully. "Unfortunately, if they're only using the lines for transport, and judging by their thoroughness in hiding the clues, they were probably smart enough to cover their trail. It'll be tough to follow them. The search could take hours…maybe days."

Sesshoumaru's angry growl cut off any explanations the fox may have had to offer. Inuyasha jumped to his feet as Tokijin was pulled from his brother's belt, the angry jaki of the sword radiating with a palpable blue aura.

"Whoa, Sess, be reasonable. I'm sure it wont take that long."

Sesshoumaru ignored his brother's weak attempts to placate him, instead turning his rage on a wall of computers at the back. Power shot forth from the sword with out any sort of spoken command - with out even being swung, turning the computers and the wall behind them to ash in an instant.

"Get a team down there now. I want a thorough sweep."

Shippo nodded mutely, clearly terrified by the menacing timbre rolling through his voice like distant thunder.

"I want her found. If you don't find her your way soon, I start my own search." Sesshoumaru warned with a snarl, turning on his heel and stomping back out the way he came.

Shippo gulped and dove headfirst back into his calculations, trying to find something, anything, lest he might be on the receiving end of Sesshoumaru's next fit of rage.

A head poked through the charred hole in the wall, staring incredulously at the carnage, just as Inuyasha turned to follow his brother.

"That bad, huh?" Koga hazarded a guess, looking thin lipped to the silver haired hanyou. Inuyasha nodded stiffly. "Well I just got news, our plane leaves in thirty minutes. We've got to head down to the strip."

With a torn expression, Inuyasha looked from Koga to the door his brother had disappeared through moments before.

"We've got to go man." Koga stated cautiously, no sense in invoking the rage of both inu brothers. "I know you want to help him, but the best way to do that right now is by getting the Shikon. Once we get Kagome back in one piece you two can hunt the bastard down and rip him to shreds."

Inuyasha sighed and nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, the wolf was right. Sesshoumaru would do what he felt he had to do, and he would do what he could to help.

* * *

**New York City, Lower East Side Manhattan**

**Project Miasma, Underground Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 2:00 pm EST**

**42 hours 45 min till Archangel release**

The damp grit that coated the walls now also coated the palms of both her hands in a thick, coal-black stain. She'd been over every inch of dirty cinderblock that she could reach and had found nothing: not a crack, not a chip.

She refused to give up though. She began again, starting in the back right corner, running her hands searchingly over the cold stone. There had to be something. If only she had something she could use as a sledge.

She cast a furious look over her shoulder at her guard. He was still standing exactly as he had been fifteen minutes ago, which was the same spot he'd been in for the last two and a half hours.

It was seriously pissing her off.

On some level she knew it was an irrational reaction, but on another much more gratifying level, she realized she didn't care if it was rational or not.

"If you're still breathing over there, rub your belly and stand on one leg."

No reaction.

"Oh well." Kagome sang in mock disappointment. "I suppose that means you're dead. If you could just toss the keys my way before keeling over, that would be great."

Still nothing.

Kagome huffed out some bad words under her breath, too far past her limit to be embarassed at her laps of femininity, and turned to resume her search. About three rows of gray concrete bricks later found her raging around her cell like a caged animal, screaming at the top of her lungs, and shaking the wall of iron bars that refused to budge even a smidgeon.

Even though she knew it was foolish, that it wouldn't work, she wedged her shoulder between two of the bars. She managed to squeeze most of her right leg and arm through before getting hung on her hip and collarbone. It startled her to realize she was crying again. The warmth of her tears was a stark contrast to the cold metal against the soft skin of her cheek.

In a last ditch effort she tried to push the bars farther apart so she could squeeze through, screaming and rattling them again when she failed.

It was incredibly frustrating to feel so trapped and helpless.

"Please." She slid to her knees, the bars slipping easily through her fatigued finger. "Please let me go."

She was begging him, damn it. The least he could do was look at her.

"Please h-help me. I don't h-have anything to do w-with this." Her voice cracked and wavered piteously. "I have to get out of here."

She wept for a long time then, the top of her head barely brushing the bars as her body quaked.

Exhaustion was setting in, and her raging and weeping had left her feeling empty, completely drained of emotion. She wanted to lay herself on the ground and sleep. Maybe she would be granted the mercy of having one last dream of the happy life that seemed forever ago now.

One last dream of Sesshou.

Ever so slowly her body lowered to the floor, limbs sprawled whichever way they landed. She felt heavy. Her body ached fiercely: she supposed whatever virus they had infected her with was starting to take hold. It was nothing compared to the hollow aching in her chest, though.

There, she felt cold. Cold and completely alone.

* * *

**New York City,**

**City Sector B43, Municipal Sewer System, Section 7 **

**Sunday, June 19th, 11:45 am EST**

**45 Hours Until Archangel Release**

Miroku Houshi chose to lead the team sweeping the sewers himself, despite his distaste for the destination. As soon as Shippo had sent him the data, even before he'd explained the technical readouts and the attempt to bury the old blue prints, he'd felt a terrible prickle of foreboding that clenched his stomach like sour milk.

Ordinarily he would just send in a group of five or so of his subordinates, running the operation from the peace (and cleanliness) of his office where he was set up with as many monitors as he had camera's on site. He was a strategist, and occasionally served as a negotiator, his smooth demeanor and keen intellect best suited in a planning capacity.

That's not to say he couldn't hold his own in a fight, far from it. Anyone at his rank had to be the best of the best, or they'd have been taken out long before reaching Captain.

There was just something about this, though, that had his instincts screaming with unease, which was unsettling all of its own. His instincts were spot on more often than not, and they never _screamed_.

Now, down in the black, stinking underbelly of the city, everything had gone deathly quiet, as if the entire universe was suddenly holding its breath.

"Team two, report." His voice was low, but not whispered, as he spoke into the COM.

There was a touch of static, nothing to worry about, but it was obvious immediately that Sango had been grinding her teeth again. The oral mic's were a flashy bit of technology usually reserved for undercover work, but in the dark, with unknown combat situations looming before them, it was best to have your equipment someplace it couldn't easily be dropped, crushed, or knocked off.

"Nothing yet." Sango sounded tense. It was probably because of their location: the combat specialist was as tough as they come, but she had always been afraid of the dark. The thought made Miroku smile a little, reminding himself to take the piss out of her for it later.

Even with the aid of the night vision lenses, the dank, wet expanse of tunnel was dark and eerie, everything cast in shades of green, gray, and black. Other than the constant motion of the sludgy river down the central vale of the piping, the sewer seemed devoid of any sight or sign of life. Not even the scurrying of rats could be heard.

"Infra-red scan." He instructed Spence, the operative scuffling stealthily along the grating on the other side of the tube. There was a nearly inaudible click when he switched the device on, and a small whirring as it heated up.

"Nothing, sir."

"Nothing at all?" he asked in concern.

"No sir. Other than you and I, that is."

This was bad. There were always rats in the sewers. Sometimes snakes found their way down, drawn by the dark seclusion, along with an assortment of other small rodents, and occasionally a hobo or two, but there were _always_ rats. That meant something down here was driving them off.

Or eating them…

"Sango." He called smoothly over the mic.

"Here."

"Hold your position. I'm going to do a sweep for Youki."

"Did you find something?" she asked, sounding both relieved and tense.

"No. That's the problem." He didn't have to explain. They had been working together long enough that she was often able to instinctively grasp his train of thought almost immediately, with few words having to pass between them.

"No rats." She whispered, realization coating her voice with the cool alertness of a seasoned warrior.

"Precisely. You're so quick and intelligent," he crooned, teasing her despite the seriousness of the situation, "no wonder I can't keep my hands off you."

There was an indelicate snort, which sounded oddly distorted through the oral inset, but her amusement was clear as a bell. "The reason you can't keep your hands off me has a lot more to do with your _condition_ than my intelligence."

"Condition?" Spence piped up with a concerned sort of interest. Usually he feigned deafness when they started in on the heavily intoned sexual banter, but this obviously piqued his curiosity enough to speak up.

"Ah!" Miroku placated with a little chuckle. "Nothing to worry about."

"Yes." Sango's quick-witted response cracked over the audio feed, warm and vindictive, just the way he liked it. "Chronic Perversion is neither contagious nor fatal."

Spence seemed quite unsure what to say to that, and so settled for "That's good to hear, then." Then more quietly added, "I guess."

Sango's quiet laughter rolled over the headset, even though she could have muted the mic.

"Ok." Miroku cleared his throat loudly, pulling the long Shakujou staff from its place on his back. "Let's get down to business. We are on a time limit here, people."

The Shakujou was not the most practical of weapons to bring into battle, at least not in the 21st century, but when dealing with spiritual energy, human or youkai, it had always proved its worth despite its ungainliness. The jangling of the rings echoed around them, sounding more like a wind chime than a powerful tool, but that peaceful tinkling was part of what he liked about it. The mix of Zen and chaos, monk and warrior, combined in a perfectly balanced, ever moving circle.

With a grand sweep and a few softly uttered words, Miroku felt his spirit fan out around him, searching for even the slightest remnant of energy. It didn't take long.

"Shit." He rarely swore, even under the worst circumstances, but when he found himself rebounding off a barrier strong enough to send him staggering back into his body, he couldn't seem to bite one off fast enough.

"What is it?" Sango asked immediately, already moving her team back toward them. "Did you find something?"

"You could say that." He replied, steadying himself with a hand against the slimy tunnel wall. "There's a barrier down here strong enough to stop a small warhead."

"What?" Sango's voice was incredulous, her feet slapping hurriedly at the damp grating and concrete that made up the access pathways. "How did we not pick that up on the sensors?"

A dark grimace pulled his mouth into a taught slash below his perfectly straight nose. That was an excellent question, but a better one would be: _how did he fail to detect something so strong before now?_ Or better yet, _who was this Naraku to have the kind of power it would take to mask such a huge amount of energy?_

"Get your team over here as soon as possible." He ordered quietly, his mind already running through projections and scenarios, trying to pick out the best course of action to avoid his teams annihilation. "I have to call this in."

"Already on my way."

Pulling out his phone with hands that still shook slightly from the shock of running into such a powerful force so unexpectedly.

"Give me the good news first, Houshi." Kaede's age-crackled voice answered halfway through the first ring.

"I'll give you both together, there's not much distinction between the two anymore, it seems."

* * *

**New York City, Lower East Side Manhattan**

**Project Miasma, Underground Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 2:15 pm EST**

**42 hours 30 min till Archangel release**

Her eyelashes fluttered a few times before lowering to rest at the crest of her cheeks, her breathing becoming shallow and even, though she was still very much awake.

Everything around her, though, had gone still, and, perhaps because she was too spent to wonder at it, the peace of it washed over her like a warm, familiar smelling blanket.

Her senses fanned out, both heightened and numbed all at once in a strange mix of awareness. She could no longer feel the cold seeping into her bones from the floor, or the way the bare concrete made her joints ache, but she could feel the multitude of bodies in the building.

The way their aura's glowed, or pulsed, or writhed: the delicacy of the human soul and the inherent power deeply seated with in the Youkai. It was nearly overwhelming.

And she could feel _him_ too: dark and malicious. Writhing as if in a constant struggle with in his soul. Naraku's presence loomed over the whole place like a dark shadow.

Then she was reaching outward, unsure whether it was a subconscious need to be away from the oppressive presence of her captor, or a secret yearning to search for something.

Someone.

There were many humans, their aura's faint and flickering; too caught up in the day to day to even realize their light was dying. She ran across Youkai too, though not as many, and none as powerful as Naraku.

It was a frightening observation.

Still…she felt empowered, never having drawn her sense out in such a way. Her training in the 'family tradition' had been left at her grandfather's speech about her honorable bloodline, and her duty to maintain the memory of the past. Memories of the great past could be passed along through books, long hours of fasting and training were no longer necessary. Of course Jii-san had been severely disappointed when she'd informed him of this bitter truth.

Now she almost wished she had at least given it a shot. She might have been able to get herself out of this mess if she had.

Before she could stretch farther, she was pushed forcefully back to her body - riding on a wave of power so strong that it crashed into the building with the force of an incorporeal tsunami.

A shuttered breath left her lips like a lovers sigh, her eyes open and unblinking as her body seized up in both shock and recognition.

An indescribable warmth sprang to life in her belly, spreading like liquid fire to the tips of her numb fingers and toes. A feeling both foreign and instinctual: something she'd never experienced, yet somehow always known was there.

She watched her still hand in mute fascination as the pinkish haze of her aura leapt and crackled, brightening like a supernova in the dimness of her cell.

Then, as soon as it flared, it began to fade, colors bleeding back to their normal hues as her aura stabilized. The small confining space of her prison suddenly felt so much more restrictive and binding than before.

There was yelling all around her, and the pounding of frantic feet, but it all seemed distant and unimportant because that incredible light that had just flared with in her like a spiritual inferno…that was the power of her bloodline…the power of a priestess.

And the power that had crashed into the building like an angry storm…that was her Sesshou.

* * *

**New York City**

**City Sector B43, Municipal Sewer System, Section 7 **

**Sunday, June 19th, 1:45 pm EST**

**43 Hours Until Archangel Release**

Miroku's hands ran in an endless series of motions just over the surface of the crackling, malignant barrier blocking the tube. He had never seen one quite like it, both solid and malleable in a way that should have been impossible.

The water, for instance: that constant flow of sludgy by-product passed though unhindered, but it was by design rather than weakness. Grudgingly, he had to admit it was rather ingenious. The energy was strange though, like it was forged through the cooperative effort of hundreds of lower-level youkai combining their power rather than the construct of one, singular powerful being.

That theory was an invariable impossibility; such creatures were simply not permitted to run wild in civilized places for the sheer amount of damage they tended to wreak with their havoc. Besides, they were bestial creatures driven by the baser needs of survival: hunger, thirst, procreation, and the constant struggle for dominance.

Such creatures were simply incapable of pooling their power in such a way, even if one considered the staggering improbability of a productive collaboration that didn't disintegrate into animalistic brawling.

Regardless of how the barrier was built, tearing it down should have been a fairly simple, if time consuming, matter once he located its weak points. Unfortunately, he had been testing it for hours now with out finding so much as a hairline fracture in its integrity to work with.

And from what he was hearing from HQ, Sesshoumaru was getting impatient.

"Anything?" Sango asked hopefully from her place against the curving slope of the wall.

"No." he grunted in a rare show of frustration. It was as if the sustaining energies of the shield were in constant motion. By the time he got to a perceived weak point, it had already filled in.

"Can't we just pummel it until it gives?" She wheedled, impatience wearing at her normally cool, confident demeanor.

"Why, Sango my love, you sounded so much like Inuyasha just now I was almost envisioning him in a sexual light. It was quite disturbing, please be more careful in the future."

Sango laughed lightly, barking out a fairly good 'Keh' that had him cringing bodily.

"Why _haven't_ we tried hitting it with anything?" Spence asked, ignoring the sniggers of his two fellow junior operatives in favor of actual mission-related commentary.

Miroku pulled out the plain black elastic that held his shoulder-length hair, ruffling the sweaty locks at the roots in an attempt cool his head, both physically and mentally. He hadn't been this frustrated over something other than Sango in longer than he could remember.

"That would work in theory." He explained, the rings of his Shakujou jangling as he swung through a few cleansing kata. "Inevitably the barrier would come down if we hit it hard enough in the right spot. Unfortunately, a barrier of this size has the potency to level half a city block if it shatters outward rather than collapsing upon itself."

"And we haven't found the right spot yet, right?" Kinsley, an ex-military man with a pock marked face and an even spottier personality, quipped with a touch of cheek.

"That's right." Miroku found himself snapping back before he could reign in the urge. "But maybe you'd like to go hacking away at it anyway. Doesn't your sister work a couple of streets over? I'm sure she'd enjoy the show."

Kinsley grunted out a curt "no sir" followed by some bit off curses, but he made no more comments about their slow progression.

His phone pinged in a near silent alert from his pocket, signaling that he had a call from HQ. Great, because he wasn't already under enough pressure.

"Houshi." He answered shortly after fishing it from his pocket. His team fell immediately silent.

"_Progress."_ It was Kaede, sounding stressed to her limit.

"Nothing new, except that the constitution of it seems to be in constant motion."

"_That's unheard of."_ Came the retort. _Tell me about it_, Miroku thought blithely.

"Maybe so, but I'm just reporting my findings." His reply was just as clipped. "Its almost as if its in a constant cycle of regeneration, but there doesn't seem to be a power source, unless its being generated from somewhere else."

"Its possible, I suppose. What is your plan?" 

"There's a pattern to it." Even as he said it, his eyes were following the invisible movement of the energies swirling and converging inside the barrier. "If I can just get ahead of it I should be able to create an instability. From there its only a matter of time before we can bring it down."

"_Get it done."_ Was all she offered for encouragement, but he understood the underlying message: _Get it done before we have to take down a rampaging Tai youkai on top of everything else._

Still, he couldn't help but tease. "I've never had a problem 'getting it done' in the past."

"_Just move your ass before Sesshoumaru starts shredding interns."_

"Roger-dodger." He affirmed with a false vote of confidence before snapping the phone shut with a frown.

He watched the barrier in silence, waiting for the timing to synchronize in his head. It ticked off beat like a broken clock in a room full of spot on metronomes: agonizingly close, but still not quite there.

Then the cogs whirred, and everything clunked into place.

"There." He whispered, his movement nearly too fast to follow as he jabbed the end of his Shakujou at the barrier. The pointed end met a fraction of a seconds resistance before sinking in, spearing out the other side.

The barrier shimmered, wavering like the restless swell of an ebony ocean as the integrity of the barrier began to fail. It did not immediately collapse as he'd hoped, but it was, at least, more progress than they had made since finding the thing.

"Hell yeah!" Sango whooped; jumping to her feet and shouldering the weapons she had laid carefully on the ground behind her. "That's what I'm talking about! I swear - you are so sexy some times, Houshi!"

Miroku grinned wolfishly at her, which she returned with a sultry sweep of her tongue over her lips. "You can tell me all about it later." He promised in sotto tones, his dark eyes sweeping over the curve of her breasts, the flare of her hips, before settling hungrily on her face.

A throat cleared, accompanied by some uncomfortable shifting against the dirty concrete.

"Oh, come now. You gentlemen are hardened professionals. Don't tell me a little sexual tension and inuendo is making you jumpy." Miroku threw out the jab casually; wary to stay out of Sango's reach should she decide to get embarrassed. She was like that sometimes.

"Lets just get this over with." Kinsley suggested gruffly. "You two can mind-fuck later when we're out of this stinking sewer."

"We can fuck-fuck later, Kinsley." Sango practically sang, her boldness drawing a gasp from Spence, and a barking laugh from Henson (the fifth member of their team). One hand propped imperially on her hip, while the other stroked sensuously down the barrel of the AK47 draped through the crook of her elbow. "If we mind-fuck now, it'll be all the better. You wouldn't want to ruin that for me, would you?"

Spence slapped one hand over his eyes in embarrassment, Kinsley looked a bit shell shocked, not having worked much with the infamous Bonnie and Clyde pair, while Henson busied himself securing the scope on his rifle. Miroku turned his face toward the barrier to hide his smirk. God, he loved that woman. So fiesty.

"N-nn" Kinsley had to clear his throat rather forcefully before he could continue, "No, ma'am."

Miroku chuckled, deciding it was time to break the tension and chosing to do so by slapping Sango firmly on the ass, knowing perfectly well he would get knocked up side the head for it. Sango liked his innuendo and banter, but she did _not_ put up with man handling outside of the bedroom.

Still, he couldn't seem able to resist that sumptuous curve, and it was a sure way to clear the air when things got uncomfortable for his team to a point where he worried about their performance. There was also a sick part of his dirty little mind that liked it when she was forceful with him.

Right on the mark, Sango swung around with an impressive backhand that sent him staggering against the wall. Before he could right himself with his customary 'but Sango' ploy, the tunnel began shaking like a train tube at five. The emergency lights flickered overhead like an orange, fluorescent warning. Kinsley ended up going down on one knee to stop from toppling into the murky river of sewage.

It stopped after a few seconds, but after a cursory inspection, Miroku confirmed that it was not from the barrier.

"Earthquake?" Spence asked, his shoulders taught with tension as he readied his weapon.

Miroku gave a mental nod to the young man's perceptiveness. He may have been fresh on the force, but he was no fool, which was more than he could say for the other two on his squad. They were looking up at the ceiling like it was about be peeled away by a beanstalk climbing giant.

"Doubtful." Miroku said calmly, feeling out the source of the disturbance.

The tunnel started shaking again, this time accompanied by the iron-on-iron screech of thickly corded vocal cords grating in a feral scream.

"Everyone stay close to the walls." Sango intoned, already moving like a shadow toward the bend in the tunnel just ahead. "Night vision on." She commanded as a series of well-aimed shots took out the overhead lights, casting them in total darkness.

Miroku covered her rear, in all seriousness for once, while Kinsley stalked forward on the other side of the grate, Henson covering his back, and Spence taking up a central position on one of the mesh wire bridges connecting the access routes. There was another rumble, more subdued, but closer, followed by a series of inhuman clicks that had the hair on the backs of his arms defying gravity.

With out a sound, he tapped Sango's arm, motioning for her to look at the water, which was beginning to churn like a blender on frappe. She nodded firmly, confirming his theory. What ever it was, it was in the water.

He reached up, tapping his jaw to activate his audio. "We have a disturbance, down below." He whispered smoothly, receiving three neon green nods in reply. The water was screwing with the night vision somewhat, but they wouldn't have been able to see through that murky ass juice with a 300-watt fog lamp.

Everything went still, all eyes intensely focused on the water and the waiting.

Without warning it sprang up behind Spence, long and serpentine like a Chinese dragon, but easily as long as a bus and twice as thick as a telephone pole. Spence spun with a yell, managing to fire off a volley of rounds before he was caught in its snapping jaws and pulled back under the water.

"Spence!" Miroku yelled, rushing back toward his teammate's last position, a nauseating dread filling him.

"Spencer!" Sango was right on his heels, throwing off her goggles and switching on the wide beam flashlight tethered at her hip. "Come on, Spence! Don't let him get you that easy."

But there was nothing - nothing but the restless swirl of muddy water and a lone pair of aviator's glasses laying desolately on the grate, knocked off in the tussle. Before he could stop her, Sango had dropped her pack, drawn a knife the size of a small pirate sword, and dove into the water with barely a splash.

"Sango!" Miroku screamed after her, swearing impotently under his breath while he stalked along the grated edge. "Sango!"

"What do we do?" Henson was asking frantically. "Shit, that thing was huge! What the hell do we do?"

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Miroku shouted at them when they started to look twitchy. "We've got two agents down there, don't forget that." He was already slinging his own pack to the ground. "Call HQ for back up, give Kaede all the information you can."

"What are you going to do?" Kinsley asked warily.

A low, screeching shudder echoed around them, steeling his resolve.

"I'm going in after them." He stated with a collected sense of calm that he sincerely wished was real.

He shucked his heavy vest, pulling out a set of binding beads and a knife, and was bending over the water when a hand broke the surface. Stunned, he hesitated only a moment before wrapping his fingers around the slimy wrist that undoubtedly belonged to Sango, heaving her up to where he could gain better purchase on her.

Halfway out he realized she wasn't alone. They scrabbled together, their combined strength pulling both her and Spence out of the foul smelling ooze. In the distance he could hear Kinsley speaking in a hurried, panic driven voice to someone at HQ, but it was all secondary to the slippery, shit coated woman before him.

Spence was unconscious, bleeding from several severe puncture wounds, one in his upper arm that looked like it had torn in the struggle, but he was still alive…for now.

"We need a bird. Now." Miroku barked to Kinsley, who repeated it to whoever was on the other end of that phone. He then rounded on Sango with a dark glower as he hurriedly aided her in rinsing Spence's wounds with water from his canteen, a severe wrinkle crinkling the skin between his brows.

Sango glanced up at him briefly, worry showing through the layer of sludge that painted her with a uniform brownish-green. Were he not so angry with her, he'd have had a good time coming up with new nicknames.

"Don't look at me like that." She said in a hard, confident voice as she tied off the first of the punctures with a roll of bandage from her discarded pack. "I did what I had to do."

Miroku grunted, the lines in his youthful face deepening with strain.

"What was I supposed to do? Let him die?"

Miroku still refused to speak; concentrating instead on his work while the others stood guard.

"What would you have done, then?" She demanded, her voice betraying the emotion warring with in her. She was close to tears.

"I would have done the same." Miroku consented, moving to the last, and worst, of Spence's wounds: a deep puncture to the thigh, seriously close to an artery. The kid was going to need a lot of stitches.

Sango made a dry noise at the back of her throat, it may have been a stifled sob of a wry laugh; it was hard to tell. "Then why are you being this way?"

"Because it was you, Sango!" He shouted, making her jump, making Kinsley and Henson shift uncomfortably.

"How would it be different if you had gone in after him instead? You know I'm capable, probably more so than you when it comes to hand to hand."

Miroku tied off the tourniquet, moving to wrap the wound with stiff, jerky movements.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sango shouted, caught between anger and disbelief. "What difference does it make if it was me or you down there?"

Miroku cursed harshly, grabbing her filthy hands and pressing them to the rapid thump-thumping in his chest. Her eyes went wide, her body stilling as she watched his face.

"It matters because you took away my choice, Sango." His voice was all straight edges and professionalism, but there was something in the way he said her name that gave away his inner turmoil.

"Miroku, I - "

He didn't want her apologetic excuses. "If you had died down there…" he tried, his naturally smooth voice going gruff around the fringe. He had to stop, gather his resolve, then start again, "If it had been me, if I had died, it would have been an acceptable loss."

Her outraged "How the hell do you figure that?" fell upon deaf ears.

He rolled to his feet. Shouldering his pack once more, moving forward to take a defensive position between the water and Sango.

"You're not going to give me a straight answer, are you?" she asked sourly, picking her AK47 off the ground and checking it for damage.

There was a low rumble of warning before the youkai surfaced, bowing like a cobra ready to strike.

Four sets of fire opened up, lighting up the tunnel with the yellow-orange spark of black powder exploding in the barrels. The creature screamed in agony, its body jerking as the bullets pierced its flesh. In a practiced motion, Miroku slipped a sutra from his vest, imbuing it with power before wrapping it around the blade of a throwing knife.

He only hoped his shaking hands would hit the mark. Angry or not, Sango would never let him live it down if he missed. The knife hit the creature's pale underbelly, sinking in clear to the hilt. There was a flash of power that momentarily lit the tube as it cleaved the demon in two.

Several things happened then in rapid succession. Sango whooped triumphantly as the top half of the creature fell toward the water with a graceful, boneless arc, Spence uttered a pained groan from his prone position behind them, turning Miroku's attention momentarily away from the remains of the youkai. Before he could so much as step in his fallen teammates direction though, he felt a prickling of something strong and fast moving headed straight at them a split second before a shockwave of power flooded the tunnel like a tsunami, knocking them against the walls and to the ground forcefully, and shattering the barrier like a bubble of finely blown glass.

Shakujou clattered to the grating, the sound echoing loudly in the void that followed.

"That was some sutra, boss." Kinsley whistled low when he had righted himself and regained his breath.

"That wasn't from my sutra." Miroku told the group quietly, retrieving Shakujou and doing a sweep for nearby energies. Everything seemed quiet and clear.

"The youkai?" Sango mused, staring at the water with a calculating fierceness. "It's unusual for such a low level creatures to be used to store power or maintain barriers, but not unheard of."

Miroku considered this, but the energy hadn't felt like any youki or jaki he was familiar with. It had almost felt…pure. Like unfiltered miko energy, but on entirely too huge a scale to be from one person. Only problem was...there weren't that many miko's around anymore, their power diluted and diminished over the years. It seemed that theirs was a dying art.

"No." he said after a moment. "I believe it was something else."

* * *

**New York City, Financial District**

**CIA Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 2:10 pm EST**

**42 Hours 35 Minutes until Archangel Release**

There was a warm breeze sweeping over the city, but even standing on the roof of the Tadiama building, the public face of the CIA's HQ, Sesshoumaru couldn't feel it.

Even as it snapped up the soft strands of his hair in a sensuous dance, as it tugged and billowed his shirtsleeves, he remained impassive to it, his eyes set and unmoving on the distant horizon.

He could smell her scent as if it were a part of his own, hear her voice whispering teasingly at the darkened corners of his consciousness, and feel the silken texture of her skin against the pads of his fingers. She was as much a part of him as his own blood…his skin…his heart.

And he had let her down.

His youki was still fluctuating slightly as his body continued to adjust to the absence of the regulator, but he had to admit, it felt good to be rid of it. It felt free.

And he realized just how much he craved freedom as he stood there in the glaring afternoon sun on the roof of that high rise, tasting freedom on the wind.

He would chase it, he decided. When this was over he would find his peace and the freedom promised in the blurred haze of the horizon…and he would have Kagome by his side.

He allowed his eyes to slide shut, allowing his power to build from deep with in. It swelled and swirled around him like snapping banners of lightening, pulling his mouth into a grimace at the intensity.

Apparently he'd been collared for too long, his body was unused to such a massive surge.

It felt good though, painfully good.

His claws lengthened as his power began to eat away at his human façade. His senses sharpened to a near painful degree, the smell of smog and car exhaust nearly choking him, as his elongated fangs pricked at his bottom lip like ivory senbon. His limbs tingled as muscle and bone were saturated, strengthened, by the onslaught of youki.

Something snapped with in him then, a surge of his aura rolling outward like a shock wave. The sheer force of it shook the building, sending several satellite dishes flying. It was strong enough, shocking enough, to drop him down to one knee as hundreds of points of light tingled across his flesh.

_What was that?_

It didn't take him long to regain himself, rising back to his feet to stair at his hands wonderingly. More aptly, it was the vivid red stripe curling around the pale skin of his wrists that had his attention.

That - that shouldn't be possible.

But obviously it was. He couldn't deny what he was seeing with his own eyes. (Were his father still alive he'd never have heard the end of it.)

He stilled then, almost unable to believe what he was sensing. There was a flair, a momentary flash of power that rose over the muddled din of the city like a flower blooming in a compost heap. Then it faded, receding to little more than a faint tingle on the frayed edge of his senses, but it _was_ there: weak and distant, but wholly recognizable just the same.

It seemed his Kagome had instinctively answered his call. He wouldn't leave her waiting.

The heavy steel door that led back into the building flew open with a loud bang. A steely looking Kaede rushed out, sutra in hand, and backed by about a half dozen armed agents.

Sesshoumaru turned slowly to face her, calm and unmovable as ever, but there was a fire burning in his soul that he knew he couldn't hide. It was evident by the immediate shock that overtook the old woman's face.

"Takishima?" She began with a wavering hesitancy that was foreign and out of place. The sutra, he was certain, was meant to help him regain control.

The thing was…he already had.

Sesshoumaru brushed past his gray haired chief, deciding that now was not the time for idle conversation. He had warned them…made it perfectly clear that if they could not find her, he would.

The other operatives parted before him like the red sea to his Moses. They were below the worth of his recognition, but at least they had the sense of mind to know when to back down.

Without so much as a backward glance, Sesshoumaru stepped off the edge of the building, plummeting like a pale meteor to the ground below. He was vaguely aware of the startled yelling from above, but was already too caught up in the rush of free falling to care.

The sidewalk splintered beneath his feet on impact. People screamed and darted into storefronts and alleys as he stepped out of the small crater he'd pounded into the twelve inches of solid concrete.

The red was seeping into his vision, but he held it back by a (mere) thread of control. Someone was running at him from the front of the Tadiama building, but he sped off like a blur. There was no time for contingencies and back up plans. He would debrief them once Kagome was safely back in his posession. Until then, they were better off to just stay out of his way.

His blood was up. It was time to hunt.

* * *

**New York City, Lower East Side Manhattan**

**Project Miasma, Underground Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 4:00 pm EST**

**40 hours 45 Minutes until Archangel Release**

"Kagome, darling." A deep voice drawled from with in the shadows, raising chill bumps on her arms. "You've been a naughty, naughty little girl." Naraku stepped out of the shadows to stare heavily at her through the bars. "What's the matter? Are you accommodations not to your liking?"

"Go to hell." she snarled, pushing herself up from the wall, forcing herself not to stagger. She would not allow him the thrill of seeing her weak.

"Still spunky as ever I see," he paused dramatically, "though I am most interested to see just how long it will take for your fire to snuff out."

He was baiting her, Kagome's eyes narrowed warily at the way he was watching her. Whatever reaction he was trying to dredge out, she would make sure he didn't get the satisfaction of pulling it from her.

"What do you want from me?" She asked coolly, grasping the bars that separated them, trying hard not to show her fear.

He chuckled at her bravado, the sick bastard. "Such a brave little nightingale, aren't you."

She scowled.

The patient tone he was using made her feel that he might be willing to humor her, to play along with her little game. If she wanted answers, this might just be her only chance. She watched him expectantly, knowing her poker face sucked, but recognizing that he would talk anyway.

He certainly seemed the type to crow at his own twisted brilliance.

"Nothing actually." Naraku conceded finally, a casual, eerily pleasant lilt in his voice. "I don't want anything from you." He made a passive gesture with his hand, a cruel smirk firmly in place on his sinister face.

"Then what am I still doing here?"

Kagome's fear of the man before her was held fast by the taught rope of anger and confusion that had wound its way around her like a constrictor's grip. Why in God's name had she been dragged into this if he wanted nothing from her? It didn't seem like a random 'wrong place, wrong time' scenario when those two muscle heads jumped into her cab and kidnapped her.

Naraku ran a knuckle across the fingers of her left hand, which were tightly wrapped around the two-inch thick bars between them. She jumped back in revulsion, cradling her hand like he'd burnt it with his touch.

"You, my dear, are a tool. A bargaining chip." At her puzzled look he continued. "You see, I am in the market for a certain trinket; very rare, very powerful, and nearly impossible to get a hold of. You will ensure I get what I desire. A means to an end, if you like."

"What? That's crazy, why would anyone trade something powerful enough to interest you for my life? That would be foolish. What's one life compared to keeping something like that out of the hands of a mad man like you?"

"Very astute of you." he sneered. "You're quite right. While your precious _Sesshou_ may be willing to trade the world for your safety," She grimaced, a bitter taste rising in her mouth, "the central government would never be so foolish as to deliver such a tool of destruction into the hands of …let's see, a mad man did you say? How charming." Naraku stepped forward, his eyes glowing red in the dim light. "However, if they do not deliver the Shikon… I will use you to kill millions of innocent people."

Kagome felt her blood freeze in her veins. Shaking her head weakly in denial, she drew her hand up to curl weakly against her chest. "Wha…how…"

"All in good time, my dear." Naraku turned down the hall and motioned for something. Moment's later two armed guards appeared with what looked like a straight jacket in hand. "But for now, we need to take a little trip. You're making my men anxious, and I cant really have a revolt on my hands at such a crucial time, now can I?"

* * *

To be continued...

AN: Whew! That one was a beast! But we're getting to the good stuff now, eh? We should be seeing a grand reunion in the next couple of chapters, along with a distinct possibility of some romantic naughtiness...all in the name of good fun, mind you. And its about time too! Next chapter is also shaping up to be a whopper too, and full of Kagome and Naraku interaction (not like that), but we will also get to see Sesshoumaru finally start kicking some ass! Woo-hoo!

Reviews are better than coffee! (hint hint) ...I have no shame...


	9. The clock ticks on

**AN:** Oi! Here's chapter nine in all its spit-shined glory! And in saying that, I must give the highest accolades to the fabulous JazzyFay, who went over this chapter with a fine toothed comb and a ton of elbow grease to whip it into the beautifully polished chapter we now present to you. Jazzy, I salute you - twenty-one guns and all.

Also, I've known for a while that my summary for this story sucks big time, but I'm having a total brain fart over how to change it up and make it more appealing. I am beseeching you guys to help me out here; if you have any ideas _please_ leave it in a review to let me know. I'll be sure to credit anyone who gives an idea I use. It can be like a contest, only the prize will be the joy of knowing you helped out a poor, creatively stymied writer find a summary that does the story justice… 00'(yes, these are my puppy eyes…I'm sorry to have to take such drastic measures, but I'm getting desperate, you see.)

Thanks to all of you for reading, and don't forget to review.

-UC

**

* * *

**

**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter Nine**

_The Clock Ticks On_

* * *

**23,000 feet over Washington D.C., Serenity Secured Airlines **

**Specialized Boeing 737, main cabin**

**Sunday, June 19th, 12:30 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

**44 hours, 15 minutes until Archangel release**

"Beginning decent now, gents. Hang on to your hats."

"Aa. Thanks, Ginta." Koga called up to the cockpit before taking his seat and motioning for his partner to do the same. The jets whirred loudly and the unpleasant feeling of decent swirled in the guts of both agents.

Inuyasha dropped heavily into his seat, leaning forward onto the thick marbled table bolted to the cabin floor between them. There was a nervous tension in the atmosphere, not that it was unexpected. This was one messed up game of extreme fetch Kaede had them on. With a frustrated growl, he began tugging at his ears as the pressure in the cabin started dropping.

Flying had never been high on his list of favorite things. Even with specialized cabins it was uncomfortable, more so for him than most it seemed. Maybe it was because he was hanyou. He tugged at the corner of one ear roughly, grimacing as Koga looked on amusedly.

"Shut up!" Inuyasha snapped irritably.

Koga threw his hands up defensively, but that damned annoying smirk was still there. "I didn't say anything."

Inuyasha scowled, not really having anything to come back with. Koga chuckled softly under his breath, but waved his hands in a placating manner when the hanyou growled.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Koga broached when his laughter had subsided. "Where did you get that rusted-ass letter opener?"

Inuyasha huffed and leaned back in his seat, his claws punching neat little holes in the leather upholstery when his ears popped again. "Crazy old geezer gave it to me. He lives at H.Q. apparently, in the back of a safe, of all things. Seemed pretty uppity about me keepin' it for some reason." Mild irritation gave way to discomfort and he began jiggling his finger in his ear again.

"Oh! You mean Totosai!"

"How was I the only one who didn't know about him?" The hanyou grumped.

Koga shrugged. "I've been trying to get that old man to make me a sword for ages."

"Eh? You mean he wouldn't?" Inuyasha perked, ears swiveling forward in interest.

"Hell, no. Said I was too irrepressible – irresponsible – irri – something."

"Ha! He practically shoved one in my hands as soon as I walked in there." He declined to mention that he actually pulled it out of its case before even realizing that the stale old fart was in there. "You must really suck. He called Tetsusaiga his masterpiece, too!"

"That piece of scrap iron? What are you bragging for, bastard? That just proves he's gone senile."

"Why you – "

The plane dropped suddenly, causing both young men to fly up out of their seats a few inches before it leveled out. A moment later the soft ping of the _fasten safety belts _sign filtered from the overhead console.

"Sorry 'bout that!" Ginta called back from the cockpit. "Just an air pocket, nothing to worry about."

"Oi!" Inuyasha groused while surreptitiously fastening the clasp of his restraint. "Watch where you're going up there." He kicked one heel under his seat to be sure that his parachute was there. This, of course, was done in stealth, but the way Koga was smirking again let him know he was busted.

"Anyway," Koga said, pulling a suitcase from under his seat and plopping it onto the table between them, deigning not to comment about the hanyou's paranoia. "I've got some crap for you."

Inuyasha leaned forward eagerly, looking into the case with the air of a child on Christmas morning, clearly expecting some of Shippo's awesome goodies. His face fell; it was the same look given when the brightly wrapped boxes under the tree held underwear instead of toys.

"This is just a stupid badge and Agency ID. Security clearance…Code Red restriction reversals…What a rip!" The hanyou tucked the badge in his pocket and clipped the ID to his shirtfront, but only after grimacing at the horrible laminated picture. It was _really_ unflattering – worse than his driver's license…Shippo probably did that on purpose, the little shit-head.

"What were you expecting?" Koga asked, a comical look on his face as he went over the official looking documents that detailed what was known about the Shikon.

"Something cooler, maybe." He was pouting and didn't care. What happened to the spy gadgets? The explosives that looked like bubble gum, jackets that made the wearer invisible, and surveillance cameras that could fit on the head of a pin: the crap that made this job interesting, damn it all! Where was the good stuff? "Something that explodes or makes you disappear? Shippo didn't at least stick a camera in there?" he wheedled hopefully.

"Not even a normal one."

"This reeks." Inuyasha slammed his shoulders back against his seat, folding his arms petulantly. "He could have at least sent _something_."

"Why?" Koga asked with a quirk of his dark brows. "It's not like we're going in to steal the thing." His eyes traced along the lines on the paper in his hands a few moments longer before a paranoid tension seized him. He looked up slowly, meeting the clear gaze of the gruff hanyou across from him.

"We _aren't_ going to have to steal it, are we?"

Inuyasha stared at the wolf blankly for a few moments, inwardly enjoying watching the tic that was worrying the corner of his left eye, before shrugging noncommittally and turning to look out the window. "Keh. Hell if I know. Kaede says 'go get the jewel' and I go _get_ the jewel. Doesn't much matter if these assholes want to hand it over willingly or not."

"Maybe." Koga agreed, a look of uneasiness still shadowing his face and the slump of his shoulders. "But it would make our job a hell of a lot easier if they do."

* * *

**New York City, Lower East Side **

**Carrington Tower, Top Floor**

**Monday, June 19th, 8:05 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

**36 Hours, 40 Minutes until Archangel Release**

Kagome lay face down against the gritty carpet of the strangely empty and unfinished office she'd been hauled off to. She felt heavy: spent of emotion, and exhausted beyond measure.

They had her in a straight jacket, and she was somewhat ashamed to admit that she had completely freaked out when they had first strapped her in. It was unpleasant, being confined in such a way. She didn't understand how the use of such a horrible thing could even be considered humane; if a person wasn't crazy before being strapped into the constricting garment, they may well find themselves that way after being left in it a while.

With a groan and a careful amount of wiggling she managed to pull her knees under her prone form, pushing herself upright.

The hazy, waning light that filtered in through the windows told her that it was dusk, which meant that she had passed out at some point. Her arms hurt, shoulders aching fiercely from being pulled at such an uncomfortable angle for so long, and the buckles along her left side had dug uncomfortably into the soft flesh over her ribs.

"I see you are awake, Nightingale."

Kagome jerked around with a gasp, nearly toppling over for her effort. On a dusty, sheet-draped desk that had been pushed against one of the freshly plastered walls crouched Naraku, red eyes gleaming like an animal's from under the cover of his pelt.

"Where are we?"

"Ah. Inquisitive this evening, aren't we?" He turned around the clock which read 36:38 in glaring red. "Well. I suppose I could grant you such a paltry request. We are on the top floor of the new Carrington Tower. Does that sate your curiosity, pretty little nightingale?"

Her mouth turned down in distaste at her pet name. It was revolting for him to act so familiarly with her.

"Why are we here? What are you going to do with me?"

"So many questions. You'd think I had you brought here by force…" He chuckled darkly at his own little joke.

"You're sick," Kagome hissed, fighting against her bindings again. "Let me go."

"Now why would I do that when I do so enjoy watching you squirm like that? If you were to cry, I might even find it arousing."

He laughed again when her struggles immediately ceased.

And the worst thing about it was that she did want to cry. She really, _really _did, but she was not going to break for him.

Instead, she knelt there on the floor, quietly trying to gain control of her emotions. The grubby feel of her skin combined with the achieness in her body, which seemed to be intensifying, was making her completely miserable. "Can I at least wash my face? Maybe clean up a bit – I feel horrible."

"Hm." His voice sounded darkly interested, but he snapped his fingers a moment later and what ever it was that had come over him was dispelled in favor of his infuriating flippancy. "I suppose it's the least we could do."

Someone scuttled across the dirty floor: Kagome didn't get a good look before the door closed behind the darkly swathed back with a snap. An empty soda can was kicked and the metallic skittering echoed down what must have been a long empty hallway.

So there were more than just the two of them? It was almost a comforting thought, knowing that she wasn't alone with him. But he'd said she was making her men nervous. Was it because of the weird glowing, or because of what they'd pumped in her arm?

No matter. It was time to start assessing her situation. They would have to undo her restraints to let her wash. It was time to start looking for a way out.

* * *

**Washington DC, Central Security Vaults**

**Seven floors beneath the Pentagon**

**Sunday, June 19th, 1:45 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

**42 hours until Archangel release**

A distrusting looking middle-aged woman led them swiftly through a labyrinth of halls, tension radiating off her in tangible waves. She was the stiff necked sort, with a Spartan hairstyle and an sharply cut business suit in a gaudy shade of military blue that screamed 'Look at me! I'm important!'

Inuyasha cast Koga an inquisitive glance, but the wolf simply shrugged with a look that said he was just as lost. There were people scurrying every which way, darting in and out of doorways like lab mice looking for the cheese at the end of the maze. Passing, stiff-necked nods were all they got from the few that actually took notice of the strangers being escorted into the bowels of the building. He'd have thought at least an air of curiosity would have been customary, this wasn't exactly on the tour docket, but everyone seemed too busy to really care about anything other than their own to do list.

Poor fools. They probably had no concept of what was actually going on around them; most were too busy running the rat race to even open their eyes fully.

The woman, Ms. Blue Suit, as Inuyasha's subconscious had taken the liberty of dubbing her, took a sharp right down a stinted corridor. Her stiffly starched navy skirt remained unnaturally in place, unmoving as cardboard despite the jerkiness of her movements. There was a bland set of commercial grade elevator doors at the end, which opened soundlessly when she swiped a security card and punched in an access code. They rode down twelve more floors in complete silence.

They had to be nearing a hundred feet below surface level now. It was a fleeting thought, but, Inuyasha realized with a grim press of his lips, not one with out merit. Being so far underground meant there were fewer emergency exits should the need arise for a quick escape.

Inuyasha was getting irritated by the time the carriage bumped to a stop on sublevel nineteen. Before either youkai had a chance to acclimate to the odd, suppressive feeling that saturated the air and pressed in upon them the moment they stepped off the elevator, they found themselves being herded down the corridor like a dirty secret. Inuyasha felt the urge to express his feelings regarding Ms. Blue Suit's brisk, cold-shouldered behavior in same manner in which he expressed his feelings for cabbies that cut him off during rush hour.

Luckily his rant was stymied by their arrival in front of an impressive set of reinforced steel doors, complete with cross bars and a lattice work of overlapping red beams. It would have been a good one though, had he gotten the chance to really work himself into a good tirade, and the acoustics in the hall would have made it all the better. The echo would have made his angry voice (which was actually only slightly louder and more irritated than his normal voice) big and booming, like the voice of the Wizard from _The Wizard of OZ_. The sudden urge seized him to shout out 'I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ'. He shook his head at the inane thought, deciding that he was definitely going soft. From now on, he was picking the movies for Friday night movie fest with Kagome and Sess – and they were all going to have the words bloody, fist, or sword somewhere in the title.

"This is Security Vault Fifteen." Ms. Blue Suit informed them in a reluctant tone of voice, clearly apprehensive about the proceedings.

"Lets get on with it all ready," Inuyasha groused, fearing that she was about to break into a lecture better left for the tourists. They weren't fools or ruffians hired for transport. Inuyasha understood, probably better than she did, the seriousness of the matter.

The woman's frown deepened, her lips compressed into a firm, white line as she turned to open the access panel along the wall. Koga was smirking at her back. Inuyasha reigned in the urge to curse in irritation.

Seven ominously loud metallic clangs rang mutedly from within the heavy door, then came the hiss of an air pressure lock releasing…all before any of the outward security came down. Inuyasha swallowed back his personal commentary as the cross work of iron bars scissoring over the door retracted with a synchronized snick and the lasers flickered, then went cold. Still, he couldn't quite stop the "_Finally_" from slipping through his lips when the doors slid open.

"This way please, gentlemen." Ms. blue suit strode through the doors stiffly, an irritating hauteur snapping about her like cords of barbwire, set to cut anyone who got too close.

Koga mock-bowed, holding out his hand with an exaggerated look of fake congeniality pasted on his face. Inuyasha bonked him on the head with a closed fist in passing, but his smirk was already in place.

They passed through a long door-less hallway with gleaming stainless steel walls, seamless in construction. Tiny round slotted holes, barely the size of a man's palm, were lined up about every two feet just above the baseboards.

The vents blew a constant, shuttered stream of machine-cooled air over Inuyasha's pant legs, making the thick material of his jeans alternately slick to his calves and scrape across the top of his shoes with an annoying swish. He was actually starting to get pissed at the sheer amount of overkill here when the hall ended at a second vault-like door. Four armed guards stood like statues in rank and file on either side, neither looking at nor acknowledging the trio as they approached.

'Keh. Maybe they _are_ statues,' Inuyasha thought. They were standing more stiffly than should have been humanly possible. He almost pitied them: they probably had the most boring-ass job on the planet.

Koga busied himself pulling faces at one of the guards like one of those maddening, over-enthusiastic tourists at Buckingham Palace, while Ms. Blue Suit began yet another ridiculously long sequence of procedures to open the second door.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh. At least Koga had gotten bored of harassing the guards quick enough, content to stand impatiently behind the stuffy woman, tapping his foot loudly against the glossy black tiles of the floor.

There was something about her that was annoying the hell out of Inuyasha. Just from watching the harassed tension in her sharp movements as she worked the sensors, scans, and dials, he was willing to hazard a guess that she was likely as cuddly as a bag of frozen peas in the bedroom. Then again, her cats probably didn't mind so much. The thought was mildly amusing so he let her go on about her business with out comment.

The last dial spun, finally clinking into place with suprisingly little pomp. Unlike the first, this vault opened soundlessly, swinging inward with a slowness that attested to its sheer mass. At first there was only a blinding brightness that forced Inuyasha to shield his face with his forearm. His eyes adjusted to the glare quick enough, but he worried there was something wrong with his vision. The hanyou blinked his eyes firmly twice to confirm he was actually seeing what he _thought_ he was seeing.

In the center of the immaculate white room within Vault 15, a barrier shimmered like an iridescent dome. Four monks were seated in full lotus position at each of the pivotal points around the bubble of spiritual energy, each swathed in traditional white robes punctuated by a vividly scarlet drape that hung from their necks like a physical expression of the burdens of sin and worldly distractions. Four bald heads were bowed in deep meditation, weathered and gleaming like oiled leather, and capped with foreheads so heavily lined with age that they almost seemed troubled even in the midst of their peaceful trance.

As the two agents stepped hesitantly through the doorway, an elderly woman draped in white seemed to melt right out of one of the walls, causing Inuyasha to start slightly at her sudden appearance. Ms. Blue Suit bowed formally to the woman before introducing them to her with tense, hurried words. She turned, disappearing back out into the foyer, even before the old woman had a chance to speak in turn.

"I take it you are here for the jewel?" The old woman's voice was calm and soothing, bearing no hint of distrust or disapproval. Her silver hair, a sign of age rather than heredity, was a striking contrast to the soft toffee of her gently lined face. "My name is Mara Ujinga, and I am the current guardian of the jewel of four souls."

* * *

**New York City, Lower East Side**

**Carrington Tower, Top Floor**

**Monday, June 19th, 8:15 pm**

36 Hours, 30 Minutes until Archangel Release 

The newly liberated buckles jangled irritating on their double-stitched, re-enforced tethers with every move Kagome made. She wanted to take the coat off completely. It was heavy and oppressive, and she couldn't help but worry over who had worn it before her and why. For now, having her arms free would have to do.

A shallow tin bucket was dropped carelessly on the floor in front of her, water sloshing over the side to splatter in dark drizzles across the ashy carpet. Kagome jerked back at the sudden action and the hostility from the woman who'd done it. It was the same woman she'd seen in Naraku's office right after she'd first been kidnapped. Dark garnet eyes glared down upon Kagome, sparing little more than a moment before she turned and swept gracefully from the room. She still held an air of elegance about her, even amongst all that filth, and it appeared that she wasn't taking too kindly to fetching water.

With a sigh, Kagome peeked over the rim to stare down into the dark reflective liquid. A filthy, frightened girl stared back, looking frail and entirely too young for the sight to feel familiar. Instead, it made her feel worse. The water was filthy, she conceded, or maybe it was the bowl that was dirty, distorting her image into something almost unrecognizable.

Kagome decided it didn't much matter as she splashed some of the water on her face with cupped hands. It was wet, and cool, and felt amazing against her clammy skin. She scrubbed at her skin with nothing but her hands and water until it was pink. Soap would have been better, but even just this made her feel less sticky and gross. They hadn't bothered to offer her a towel, and she refused to re-dirty her face by wiping it on her grubby sleeve, leaving the refreshing pearls of liquid to run freely down her neck to drip a steady rhythm from her chin to her chest.

"So what happens now?" Kagome watched Naraku where he stood, statue still, by the room's one window.

"Now? Now we wait, Nightingale."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Kagome spat in disgust, irritated with his self-imposed familiarity. It was unsettling.

"There is a story, an old fable written by a writer called as Hans Christian Anderson. It is aptly called 'The Nightingale'." He spoke in even tones, the dark rasp of his voice sounding almost human for once.

Whatever she was expecting, classical literary references were not on the list. "I'm familiar with it," She recited warily.

"You're an intelligent and learned woman. I would have been disappointed if you weren't," he said with an almost inaudible chuckle. "Then I suppose you have your answer, then."

" 'The Nightingale' was about materialism and the dangers of ignoring natural beauty…" Kagome reasoned with some confusion.

"The humble bird was said to have a hauntingly beautiful singing voice," Naraku explained with out acknowledging the question in her words. "She sang the most beautiful song in all the world, and the emperor who had everything did not even know she was right there under his nose, until someone pointed her out."

"Your point? I don't know any emperors, nor do I sing."

He chuckled darkly, turning to look at her from the shielding hood of his pelt. Kagome tensed, trying not to cringe back or look away, and frowned deeply at her hands where they fisted in her lap.

"Oh, how sweetly naive you are, little nightingale." He made a jerky motion, as if he was going to move toward her, but stopped himself. "I can practically _taste_ your innocence."

The innuendo was revolting, but Kagome resisted the urge to react. He was pushing her again, but he would find that she could push back just as hard when cornered. She would do her best to steer the conversation back into safer waters.

"So you've said before," she told him flatly, twisting one of the unbuckled straps, the rasp of the rough fabric warming her skin in an almost painful way. "Yet no one seems to deem it necessary to enlighten me."

There was a pause as Naraku studied her contemplatively. Kagome watched him with careful, wary eyes, contemplating her next move. If he refused to give her anything but pointless drivel, she would have to find a way to pry the information she needed from him.

"You are far too clever to have been played the fool for so long," he said shrewdly after a moment.

"Obviously not," Kagome replied sourly as a flicker of bitterness flared in her belly at the thought of being lied to for so long, sending the warmth of embarrassed anger rising hotly to her ears.

"Hn." He turned to face her fully, pushing the leering baboon face off his head to rest against back of his shoulders.

Kagome gasped, jerking back out of reflex. He was shockingly human looking, with thick, dark hair, a face all cut and angled in the right ways, and a mouth that held surprisingly normal, even teeth. For some reason she'd been picturing him with a mouth full of razor blades and a head full of writhing snakes, though considering the state of his aura that wasn't that extreme of an assumption. His eyes were the only thing that gave him away: blood red, with a sharp glint of intelligence, a faint glow of madness, and a calculating look of shrewd cruelty.

"I know you," she breathed out, shock clearly written all over her face. "You were in the paper just a few days ago, something about a charity ball! Why are you doing this? You're already rich. You're a powerful man in this city…"

He interrupted, clucking his tongue dispassionately, "I have interests and connections in both Europe and Asia, and the current president of Southern Africa owes me a rather large sum of money. I am a powerful man all over the _world_."

"Then _why_?" Kagome demanded, feeling a sense of injustice, a need to understand what this man was after.

"Because I can." He replied simply, darkly.

"That's not a reason," she shot back, challenge written in the stiff set to her limbs, the firmness of her eyes. "That's an excuse."

He reassessed her for a moment. "What is power, what is money or influence, when a man is enslaved to the natural precept that no creature on earth can escape?"

"Death?"

"Precisely."

"So you're after immortality?" She asked, a strange feeling of disbelief washing over her. "Not even youkai live forever. Even the strongest undiluted bloodlines only have natural life spans of several hundred years at most." She watched his face carefully, but his expression remained passive, if not slightly amused. "You've already extended your life." She concluded confidently. "But at what price?"

His eyes widened fractionally, and she found she had no sense of victory in it. As much as she wanted to after all he had done to her, she could not find it in her to hate him. He was an object of pity: a man consumed by his own greed, consumed by the demons of the mind long before he ever gave himself over in body.

She understood that he was dangerous, had no disillusions to the fact that he needed to be destroyed, but she did not _hate_ him.

Once upon a time he may have been an ordinary man, with ordinary dreams. A round-cheeked child following at his mother's heels, a young man in love, perhaps. No one was born this way, so twisted up inside that they are driven to madness and destruction, so mutated that there is almost nothing left inside that resembles who they once were.

She would not damn him, wretched creature that he was, but she could never forgive him either. And given half the chance, she would stop him if she could.

"You _are_ an interesting little nymph, aren't you?" His eyes were still cold, calculating, and cruel, but the set of his mouth had settled into something foreign: unguarded, and almost regretful. "Had I known, I may have decided to keep you as a pet."

"I'm not house broken," Kagome shot back, offended. As if she would consent to be anyone's _pet_. How degrading.

"Clearly." He was amused again, enjoying the way she flared with outrage. "T'is but a trifle. The trick would be breaking you with out _breaking_ you. And I do so love a challenge." He sighed with exaggerated regret. "Too bad you'll be dead by the end of the week. Such a waste."

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P.S. Chapter 10 is finished and ready to go. You might be able to convince me to post it early if you ask nicely enough... 


	10. Bringing Down Walls

**AN:** Here it is, as promised. And a day early too!

**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter 10**

_Bringing Down Walls _

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**New York City, Long Island Sound**

**Torvald-Richardson Shipping Yard**

**Sunday, June 19th, 4:35 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

**40 Hours, 10 Minutes until Archangel Release**

Sesshoumaru had barely managed to pinpoint the general location of the flux of Kagome's energy before it simply vanished into thin air. It was obvious they had somehow suppressed her power, or they had moved her entirely. The faint traces of youki he could sense here seemed to be coming from underground. Unfortunately, he had spent the better part of the last thirty minutes trying to narrow the field to the best point of entry for what he suspected to be some sort of underground bunker carved out of the bedrock that surrounded the wharf.

It was quiet – too quiet. The shipping district was a good place to set up shop for those who were powerful enough or frightening enough to throw the kind of weight around that it would take to get the hard-edged denizens of the shipyards to keep their mouths shut about any under the level comings and goings. These were qualities Naraku possessed in droves; the pseudo hanyou would have little trouble tailoring this place to his needs. And judging from the number of warm bodies he sensed watching him, Sesshoumaru deduced that there was probably a fair deal of cash exchanging hands here as well.

The men working the docks were a gritty bunch, prone to take more than their fair share of intimidation without cracking, especially if they were on the payroll. Which meant getting answers would be difficult. It didn't matter; he didn't have the time or patience for interrogation at present. There were simply more efficient achieve the desired results.

And he realized with a bleated sense of detachment, that he probably looked like a mad man, turning circles on a wide swath of cracked and faded black top, but he pushed any fleeting concern over his public perception to the wayside. Rather, he needed to stay focused with a singular intensity upon the small, fluctuating undercurrents of youki radiating from beneath his feet.

He had yet to feel anything that even remotely resembled Kagome's energy signature, but he was certain this was the place it had originated from. Narrowed eyes swept the area with the heat of a pernicious predator, taking details into account that a man of lesser training would miss: the excess of lichen and algae running along the starboard side of the _Dante_, the deckhand that had been winding the same rope repeatedly since he arrived, and the horizontal crack in the asphalt in front of his current position, running perpendicular to all the cracks of natural origin around it.

The tip of Tokijin slammed into the aberrant fissure with a loud, scraping clack and the deckhand bolted like a startled minnow. Sesshoumaru was unconcerned by the man's sudden disappearance. No warning he could give now would spare Naraku and his minions the fury of his wrath.

Sparks danced along the dark, double-edged blade as the ground began to crumble under the force of his will. The light rippling off the blade was intense, the sensation of wielding such power addictive. The lusty call of the blade seemed much too loud in his consciousness, but he pushed all concern aside.

Sesshoumaru watched with stoic fascination as massive gouges of asphalt, earth, and metal piping were rent in the ground before him. He imagined, as his assault broke through the last layer with the force of a bullet train to reveal an underground chamber, that he must be quite the terrifying sight to behold, ablaze with the swirling fire of Tokijin's jaki while the fulgent swell of his own profound youki lashed about him like a tempest, tearing violently at his clothes and hair with the promise of imminent doom for anyone foolish enough to oppose him.

_Kill._ A voice whispered in his head, one that Sesshoumaru wasn't entirely sure belonged to him. _Kill them all. Bathe in their blood. Revel in tearing their flesh._

His lip pulled back momentarily, an inhumanly sharp canine lengthening, his face contorting with feral rage as the gentle scent of his chosen mate reached him through the flagrant din of stench that permeated the subterranean structure he had unearthed.

It barely registered through the red-tinged haze that had consumed his mind that the deep rumble shaking the ground was coming from him. He shifted his grip on Tokijin and dropped into the dragon's lair.

* * *

**New York City, City Sector B47**

**Municipal Sewer System, Section 12 **

**Sunday, June 19th, 5:15 pm Eastern Standard Time**

**39Hours, 30 Minutes until Archangel Release**

"You're sure this is it?"

"Positive." Shippo's voice crackled over the head set confidently. "There's got to be a hatch around there somewhere, maybe even something more crude like a punched out hole, but you're definitely on target."

Miroku sighed, running a sweating palm over his face tiredly. He was quick to snatch it away sharply, however, when he remembered exactly what that hand had been in contact with quite recently. Grimacing, he rubbed his sleeve over his mouth and chin out of germaphobic paranoia.

With a long, slow sweep of his flashlight over the mold-encrusted bulkhead, Miroku surmised that the manhole above him was simply that. There was nothing out of the ordinary, and they seemed to be at a dead end. Sango returned from her assessment of the tunnel walls, her head shaking in frustration.

Regardless of what the fox was picking up on the Satellites, there was simply nothing there.

Another sigh left him, this one deeper and sincerely heart felt. Dark eyes turned a disdainful look at the only other possible place the portal could be hiding: beneath the fast flowing river of sewage. Lovely.

He was working up the gumption to take the dive into the trough cut through the center of the tunnel when Shippo offered up a more sensible solution.

"You couldn't even find anything with an illusion dispersal?"

Miroku immediately straightened from his gloomy crouch with a hopeful and mildly abashed grin.

"You didn't do one, did you?" Shippo deadpanned over the line.

Miroku chuckled. Sango rolled her eyes. Kinsley and Henson were still a bit too shaken by the earlier encounter to react much at all.

"Oopsie."

Shippo's harsh sigh could almost be considered affectionate, in an exasperated kind of way. "Just get on with it already." Then he mumbled something about Miroku's tendencies to be nearly as bad as a certain hot headed hanyou.

"Hey!" Miroku protested his honor amidst the jangling rings of Shakujou. "I believe there are still mountains between myself and Inuyasha, thank-you."

Shippo and Sango snorted simultaneously.

"Maybe if we're talking about mountains of bullshit," the young fox quipped.

Sango laughed, adding "Or a crude fascination with breasts."

Miroku harrumphed, swinging his staff around him in wide, probing circles. "I feel so misunderstood," He grumped dismally, prompting another round of sniggers.

With one last sweeping arc he felt the static pinging of a stationary illusion spell. It was simple enough to locate the wavering disturbance, disguised as a rust-rotted ladder bolted to a section of wall not even five feet from where they were standing.

Miroku would have been embarrassed at such an oversight, except that the illusion was flawlessly undetectable to anyone not looking for it. Besides, he made up for the lapse with the quick work he made of dispelling the glamour. Just a few words hummed under his breath and a tap of his middle and forefinger were all it took.

"That'll do." He nodded satisfactorily at the sub-type portal, spinning the hatch. A feeling of immense gratitude surged in his chest toward Shippo for speaking up before they had gone for a swim.

"'Bout time." Shippo's voice was a little snarky, so Miroku called him on it.

"You're just jealous."

"I am _not_ jealous of your self proclaimed 'amazing stupid powers'."

"That's 'stupid amazing powers,' my good lad," Miroku quipped, swinging the heavy metal door open with a flourish. "And let me just say that your admiration is flattering, even if it does tend to bring up questions of your sexuality." Judging by the radio-silence, the technological genius was too stunned to speak. "But I'm from the 'live and let live' school of thought, so, while I don't share your preferences, you have my full support, and if you ever manage to grow breasts – we'll talk."

"I'm NOT GAY you cock-sucker!" Shippo's voice boomed with an ear piercing feedback through the headset, causing everyone to groan and scrabble to pull out their feeds before their eardrums burst.

"Sorry to disappoint, Shipper-oo, but sucking cock is definitely not very high on my list of sexual fantasies."

"But it _is_ there?" Sango interrupted curiously, elbowing past him to step through the entrance. "Maybe I need to look over this list of yours."

"Touché." He followed with a grin and a firm pat on the bottom.

Retaliation was forthcoming, but before Sango could even grind out a malicious approximation of his name, the entire structure overhead gave a mighty heave that effectively stopped them in their tracks.

"Not again," Henson muttered frantically, edging himself back toward the hatch. "Not again. This ain't happenin'. Not again. Please not again."

Kinsley snagged his partner by the collar, giving him a firm shake. It seemed to clear his head a bit; he stopped trying to slink away and his muttering ceased.

An unearthly growl cracked like thunder from somewhere overhead. Miroku's eyes closed briefly in contrition before snapping open as the distant sound of screaming echoed down into the empty storeroom from stairwell.

"Mother of God," Kinsley whispered with a touch of real fear. "We're going to die."

Sango punched him in the side of the head as she stalked passed on her way to the stairs. Miroku was quick to follow, taking the lead with a warning look when it seemed she would protest.

"What's going on?" Shippo's voice crackled in his ear.

Miroku moved up the stairs cautiously, forcing his senses to fan out before them despite the horrible pressure of angry youki pushing down on him, making it difficult to breathe.

"It seems that Commander Takishima has beaten us to the punch." Miroku's voice was light, more suited for a comment about the weather than the realization that they might just be too late.

"Shit."

"Yeah," Miroku conceded, "that about sums it up."

He motioned for the others to keep a few paces back. Judging by the force and wild fluctuation of his youki, Sesshoumaru was not far ahead…And he was seriously pissed off.

Miroku knew he was the only one with a chance in hell should they run up against him in a full rage, and even then it was the slimmest sliver of a chance imaginable. He doubted the inu, if he truly was in the throes of a blood frenzy, could be subdued by any less than ten men of strong spiritual integrity, a mile of binding beads, and a super-powered cattle prod, and even then it would be iffy.

If Inuyasha was here he would have felt a bit better, knowing that the hanyou was the only person to ever best Sesshoumaru in a fight, but there was no way of knowing whether he'd be able to stand against his brother when he was not in control of himself.

Making a decision on a course of action, Miroku rounded the corner only to be attacked by a scruffy group of rogues. They were hardly worth the effort his team made to dispose of them.

Then the rolling force of killing intent slammed into him like a sledge to the chest, stealing his breath and snapping his eyes up in search of the source. Stalking down the hall, loose limbed and doused in a heavy spray of dark blood, was Sesshoumaru. His eyes were as red as the blood soaking his shirt and streaking down his face and neck. Miroku had the grace to offer up a silent prayer as he made his move.

Appealing to his superior's primal instincts was their only hope of surviving this encounter.

**

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**New York City, Long Island Sound**

**Project Miasma, Underground Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 4:55 pm EST**

**39 Hours 50 Minutes until Archangel Release**

The metallic tang of blood filled his nose like an exotic perfume. It riled the beast that stretched its claws beneath his skin, too long asleep to be completely controlled by the parts of his mind that made up the man that was Sesshoumaru.

He felt a manic excitement at how easily their flesh rent beneath the flail of his whip, their bodies falling like blocks of stone before the strike of his blade. The warm spray of blood – vile and tainted as it was – had a certain allure, a violent seduction woven through the tearing flesh and the warm slide of blood and fluids.

He was a god amongst insects, a shining vision of death before their bleak eyes – eyes that recognized the unsympathetic rule of fate the moment they caught sight of him.

The scent he was chasing seemed to be getting stronger the further down into the compound he went, though the understanding of who the scent belonged to had dulled to little more than a primal need to reclaim that which was rightfully his.

Rounding the sharp bend in the hall, and taking a good chunk out of a cinderblock wall with the backlash from Tokijin, he came upon more fools seeking their demise at his hand. A man stepped forward from the shadows to challenge him, human by smell, but with some synthetic source of power that tainted the natural flow of his energies and caused his aura to writhe.

The dark-haired man spoke, bold to a fault as he postured arrogantly with his large halberd. The strange diamond marking on his forehead glinted as he tossed the long rope of his hair over his shoulder, but his words fell upon ears deafened with the ringing rush of blood, the howling hunger for destruction.

Sesshoumaru smiled, a feral bearing of teeth. The human should not have challenged him, he should have been afraid.

In the end, he too was tested and found unworthy.

A strange, snake-like blade shot out of the dark abyss of an open door, glinting in his peripheral vision like the spark of a firefly…and just as easily quashed.

A tussle up ahead turned his attention from the withered mass of flesh that had been a man mere moments before, to the bright flashing and muted pops of gunfire as two groups took on each other with vicious efficiency. The victors moved toward him, their mouths open in speech, but he could hear nothing over the piercing howl in his head.

A dark haired man stopped their approach, his female halting obediently behind his outstretched arm. His build was slim, but his instincts warned of the hidden fire within him. He was by far the biggest threat he had come against, but still so far from matching his own power. The man spoke, but the words were warbled and distorted in Sesshoumaru's ears, like listening to an old record that had been warped in the heat.

These creatures had dared to encroach upon his hunting ground. His instincts screamed for retribution, but the singular vein of clarity in his mind stayed his hand when it raised Tokijin to attack.

The dark haired male made a subtle motion with his hands, and his pack immediately dropped down to their knees, necks bending submissively. His eyes flickered to meet Sesshoumaru's in a brief moment of fear and indecision before gliding forward and dropping in a submissive gesture himself. He had singled himself out for attack, should Sesshoumaru decide their prostration was not accepted.

But there was something that gave Sesshoumaru pause. He took a slow, deep pull of the air around him, disregarding the scent of blood, sweat, and death, to single out the minty musk that stirred up a pang of familiarity, and shook him into stillness.

His fingers gripped the hilt of Tokijin so hard that he wondered that it didn't crack. His mind snapped back into lucidity as the red mist receded from his consciousness. His body was shaking with slight tremors that he wasn't sure were from the physical exertion or the shock of losing control so completely.

After a few beats of tense and oppressive silence he felt enough of a hold over himself to speak.

"Houshi." It came out as more of a gravely rumble than his normal smooth baritone, but it was sound enough to break the tense hold gripping his subordinates. "You reek."

Miroku's grin was quick and unabashed. "Yeah, kind of do, don't I? But not as bad as Sango."

A quick _"_Shut up, baka!" was returned in the sharp-witted tones of the weapons expert.

Sesshoumaru realized with a pang of dread that he had nearly annihilated a large chunk of his own team. He assured himself that he felt no particular attachment to them, but common sense maintained that it was unwise to take out ones own allies. Besides, they were good agents, and decent fighters despite their humanity. Even through his stubborn detachment, he had to admit that he would have felt a sense of remorse had he been the cause of their demise.

"Commander Takishima." Miroku addressed him, sounding cool and collected as always, though the pallid complexion of his face gave away his true unease. "Are you alright?"

Sesshoumaru mentally shook himself, pushing back the near painful urgings brought on by the warm, damp smell of blood that saturated the dungeon-like bottom level of the keep. A tightening of his mouth was the only answer he offered before returning his sword to his side with a smooth, practiced arc.

That seemed to be enough for the dark haired lieutenant. His expression relaxed as he stepped forward, looking around with carefully schooled features.

"So," he said after a moment, a serene smile twisting across his face like a grim parody, "I take it that Kagome is no longer here."

A dangerous sound from deep with in Sesshoumaru's throat was his reply.

"She was here though, right?" Sango asked, coming forward to stand beside Miroku. Sesshoumaru's nose crinkled in disgust. Houshi was right – she did smell worse.

"Yes."

Miroku sighed, making a quick sweep of the devastation surrounding them with an unflinching gaze. "Well, then. I suppose we should find something still breathing and squeeze it until it whistles Dixie."

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AN: You should leave me a review just for being so timely! Also, its my birthday tomorrow! Yea!


	11. Unleashing the Beast

**AN:** I probably should have waited until the end of the week to post this, but I'm just too darn impatient. -'. Hope you enjoy…

There were upload issues, so we'll try this again!

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**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter Eleven**

_Unleashing the Beast_

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**Washington DC, Central Security Vault 15**

**Nineteen Floors Beneath the Pentagon**

**Sunday, June 19th, 2:15 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

**41 hours 30 minutes until Archangel release**

"We're still talking about this Shikon do-dad, right?"

Mara smiled placidly at the endearingly inelegant hanyou, her eyes tracing the features of his face benignly. It made him a damn sight uncomfortable. He couldn't seem to resist the urge to shift uncomfortably into a more defensive stance, his scowl deepening as his arms crossed over his chest.

Her smile didn't budge.

"The jewel of four souls was a legend to the great men we know today as legends themselves. Four eternally battling youkai inside the heart of the most powerful priestess ever to tread this earth. A constant struggle of good and evil, a delicate balance of power, easily tipped in either favor."

"That don't make sense, old woman." Inuyasha interrupted bluntly. "What would four youkai be doing inside a miko's heart?"

"And how was it a legend so long ago?" Koga interjected, all seriousness for the sake of the moment. "We were under the impression that it only appeared twenty-three years ago."

"It _reappeared_ twenty-three years ago." Mara corrected benevolently, stilling Inuyasha before he could protest by raising a dark, gnarled finger as she continued. "It came into being more than a thousand years ago, when a miko of considerable power gave her life and the condition of her soul to seal away four of the most dangerous and volatile demons to ever walk the earth. Titans among even the strongest of youkai, they threatened very existence of life in this world. A great battle ensued to secure their destruction, enemies uniting to rise to the challenge of a common threat, but inevitably it was the pure heart of the priestess Midoriko who, in the face of the realization that the beasts could not be slain, sacrificed her own heart to seal them away."

"Ooookaayyy." Inuyasha decided he would just have to take her word for that part. "But that doesn't explain how it got in the body of an unborn baby a thousand years later."

"Ah, yes. That is the question, isn't it?" She motioned for them to follow as she moved toward the center of the room where the barrier was being maintained over a plain cylindrical pedestal bearing a crudely carved wooden box.

Inuyasha grunted, his youki snapping at the strong feeling of spiritual energy roiling in the barrier. Koga lagged a few steps behind, a grimace on his face. Inuyasha figured he had to be in a good deal more discomfort; after all, Inuyasha would just be stuck with a human body for a few days if he hit the barrier full on…Koga would be dead.

Mara stopped just short of touching the barrier, her gaze falling upon the box in the center with a look of cautious reverence. "The jewel, as it was discovered by its original guardians, was quite a powerful relic. It attracted weaker youkai by the droves, and drove them mad with its influence. It had to be guarded with a relentless ferocity by a conglomeration of both the Tai Youkai and the High Celestial Council. There was constant tribulation surrounding the jewel and its keepers until the spring of 1507, during the Sengoku period, the jewel simply vanished with out a trace. There are no records concerning it from the years that followed until it suddenly reappeared in the body of an infant descending from an ancient line of strong holy blood, though no one of promise had emerged from the line in over two hundred years."

"Why would it be in someone's body?" Koga queried, clearly mystified.

"And how the hell would it get there in before the kid was even born?" Inuyasha added.

"No one knows. The girl was monitored for a few years, but seemed completely ordinary."

Mara signaled with a wave of her hand and the monks at the primary points of the circle stopped their chanting. With the impression of falling water, the shimmering barrier wavered once before falling, melting away into nothing more than the faint tingle of a great concentration of power dissipating into thin air.

The three of them stepped forward over the runes inked on the floor in a flaky black substance that was probably dried blood. The box, Inuyasha noted curiously, was heavily hand carved with runes and symbols, and the seam had been pasted over on three sides with sutra.

"Oi!" Inuyasha shouted in alarm, spinning in time with Koga's growled _" – the hell?"_ When the barrier was raised back up behind them.

"I simply wish for you to understand what it is you are dealing with." Mara explained calmly. "And to know in return that you won't be overwhelmed by the jewel's tainted allure."

Inuyasha keh'd, his hand clenching on Tetsusaiga's hilt while Koga shifted uneasily beside him.

The sutra were peeled back slowly, emitting sparks at first contact with Mara's aged fingertips before fading to harmless strips of slightly charred blank paper. There was a moment when nothing happened, Inuyasha let out the breath he'd been holding with a scoff. So much for the all-powerful jewel. It had probably lost most of its power after so many years of forced dormancy.

Then, as Mara lifted the lid, if felt like fingers were tentatively prodding at his consciousness, sleepy and corroded, but incredibly powerful just the same.

"Holy shit," Koga murmured with a nearly pained gasp as a pulse of power flooded over them, beckoning them with golden promises of ultimate power as the relic tugged seductively on their youki.

"Yeah." Inuyasha could only agree as he watched the hypnotic swirl of darkness deep with in the fathomless confines of the pink marble-like jewel. He could feel the pull, the whispered temptations to let himself slip into that depth and allow it to take over.

He jerked back with a flash of bared teeth, one clawed finger pointing accusingly at the seemingly unassuming orb. "That thing is dangerous."

Mara smiled, pulling the lid down and applying new sutra: seven in total.

"I'm glad you agree," she said, pressing the box into his reluctant hands. "Don't worry, the jewel is adequately sealed so long as the sutra remain intact. Once outside the barrier, however, the lure of any surrounding youki will tempt it to flair its power." The seriousness of her voice was echoed in the taught lines etched into her dark face.

"What are you saying?" Koga asked, his face somber and seemingly unaffected, but the tension in his shoulders belied the fact that he too had felt the caress of that horrible, seductive whispering.

Mara looked to them both in turn in all seriousness. "I don't know why you need the Shikon, but I am certain of your purity."

"Purity!" Koga yelped, sounding mildly offended. "I can't speak for dog-shit, but I got laid three times last week, thanks."

Inuyasha slapped him on the back of the head. Hard. "Not that kind of purity, moron."

"Oh, right." The wolf rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, at least having the good grace to look embarrassed. Mara laughed.

"I think fate has chosen the right people for this task." Her voice had lightened, but the seriousness in her eyes was razor sharp. "I can not guarantee how long the sutra will be able to maintain their submissive hold over the jewel. Are you prepared to defend it, if necessary?"

Two determined nods, snapped off with military precision, seemed to satisfy her. With another wave of her hand, the barrier was once again dropped.

"Whatever your mission is," Mara urged as they headed for the door, "I must caution you to use haste. If the jewel is not returned to dormancy soon it may fully awaken, and in the wrong hands…"

"Yeah, yeah," Inuyasha interrupted, turning a cocky grin on the old woman. "Spare us the doom and gloom, will ya. We'll have the thing back by Tuesday."

Mara hmm'd, but made no move to stop them as the heavy door to Vault fifteen slid back into place behind them.

"Is it wise to allow the jewel to be taken from the vault, Mara?" One of the monks who had been maintaining the barrier asked, coming up behind her with a grim look.

"Probably not," She conceded, turning one of her enlightened smiles to him. "But the time has come to pass on guardianship of the jewel to the next generation. Perhaps they will find a way to rid us of its curse once and for all."

"Let us hope."

**

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**New York City, Lower East Side **

**Carrington Tower, Top Floor**

**Sunday, June 19th, 7:45 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

37 Hours until Archangel Release 

"You're lying."

"Am I?" Oh, he was clearly amused now, and despite her earlier convictions, something dark and hateful coiled in her belly. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Time will tell either way."

Kagome's hands tensed in her lap, "You're a manipulative liar. You're just trying to get me upset." And, sadly, it was working. Kagome realized with dread that she was losing this game. "You're sick."

He shrugged, the movement casual and elegant, belaying the stature of a socialite: a monster wrapped in silk and money. People were so blinded by the gleam of his charismatic charm that they didn't even notice what was laying in wait, just under the surface.

Didn't notice, or didn't care…She wasn't sure which said more about the state of so-called 'civilized' society.

"Am I? Why would I lie to you? There would be no gain in it."

It was true, she realized, cold pooling in her chest like snow melt. She was already his prisoner, the ransom was already demanded, and now he only had to await his prize.

It was as if she had fallen into the Twilight Zone. Everything felt sharp and distorted at the same time, and a strange static filled her ears with white noise. Somewhere, way back in the dark recesses of her mind, she knew she should be upset, but all she could feel was cold.

"Wh-what did you put in me?" Her voice wavered, and with a numb realization she noticed that she was trembling.

His smirk was one born of pride: a monster reveling in the fear he could stoke with the flash of his claws and teeth.

"It's called the Archangel," he explained with glee.

"A-archangel…" she whispered unconsciously.

"Yes." He turned to look out over the deepening pall of night that hung over the city like a thick blanket. "Quite an ingenuity of biological technology - a true testament to the wonders of modern science. A strain of virus, spliced from some of the world's most deadly pathogens, and mutated into devastating perfection."

She listened with ears that felt stuffed with cotton as he described the horrors the virus would inflict on her body before killing her. He seemed to take pleasure in the prospect of her pain; it bordered on excitement. It was revolting. Kagome stared blankly at her white knuckled fists where they clenched on the heavy white linen edging of the sanitarium vesture.

"And once the forty-eight hours are up, the virus will become infectious, spreading like wild fire." Kagome must have been shaking her head, because he continued. "No? Don't believe me? That's fine." His voice crackled with dark amusement. "It doesn't matter. It can't be stopped. Even if you cloister yourself away in some deserted hovel there will be a flee, or mosquito, or rat that will carry on our good work. Millions of innocent people will die, Nightingale, _millions_. Oh yes, your song will be beautiful." he stood, turning toward her again. Madness eclipsed anything else his gaze might have given away. "And just like Gabriel, your song will herald the end of the world as we know it."

"You're lying." She croaked. "There's no way – it's not possible."

He showed his teeth in a feral approximation of a smile, his eyes blood-shot and unnervingly large. "Isn't it, though?"

"Something like that would eventually kill you too!" Her voice was shrill, almost painfully so, and getting louder with every word. "You wouldn't be able to control the outcome of letting something like that loose, no matter how powerful you think you are!"

His lips peeled back much in the way a dog's might just before it bit you. Instead of being frightened, or intimidated, Kagome felt anger welling up in her veins like lava. Before she could lash out, something hard landed before her with a loud, metallic clunk. She recoiled, staring in mute shock at the sleek, black, handgun before her.

"You want to stop me?" Naraku crooned mockingly. His face was crazed and frightening, but Kagome's eyes were riveted on the gun.

Knowing she'd never get a better chance, she snatched it up with shaking hands, and struggled to stand on legs that didn't seem to want to hold her weight. When she leveled the barrel at Naraku, he laughed. It was infuriating.

"You're toying with me," she ground out through clenched teeth. "It's not loaded."

"Oh, it's loaded," he assured her richly. "But shooting me will do little to alter the outcome of our thrilling tragedy, nightingale. You could, however, choose to play the hero and blow your pretty little head apart. I'm sure it would paint a lovely picture on that wall for whoever finds you. Life is full of choices, pet, you can choose death by your own hands, or you can choose to let the virus take you, consuming countless of innocents along with you."

Her hands shook. "Why are you doing this to me?" Kagome demanded, her voice straining painfully against her throat.

"I told you before, Nightingale."

"Don't call me that!" Her voice was bordering on frantic.

Naraku was unmoved. "This has nothing to do with you."

"Then _why_?"

Naraku sighed like a teacher disappointed with a particularly thickheaded student. "We've already been over that."

"Not that, why _me_?" Her breath was coming in harsh pants through flared nostrils. She knew she was losing control of herself, but at the moment didn't give a rat's ass. "I wasn't just some random hostage. Your guys followed me all night before jumping in my cab, and I want to know _why_?"

His smile widened, malice curling the edges of his mouth in a way that was wholly inhuman. "To make him _suffer_." The last word came out as a gravelly hiss.

Kagome recoiled slightly at the sound, but kept the gun trained on his still form, gritting her teeth against the ache forming in her arms.

"Make who suffer? Sesshou?" The grin deepened, pulling so far away from his teeth that dark, blood-red gums were revealed. "Why? What has he got to do with any of this?"

"Oh, he has _everything_ to do with it." His shoulders rolled forward with a disgusting squelch and pop, leaving him hunched over slightly, though his height was somehow undiminished.

Kagome stepped back, shaking the gun at him in warning, which he found very amusing indeed.

"You're precious Sesshou has been keeping secrets from you, Nightingale." He held up one arm, a pleasure-pain look twisting his face as he cracked the joints in his elbow and wrist, a sound too loud to be anything less than cracking bone.

"I already know about his wife." She seethed, her anger spiking at the spearhead of hurt that pierced her chest at the reminder.

Naraku chuckled, the other arm cracking, bulging, elongating just as the other one had. "Even that was a lie. Our dear Sesshou has been a spike under my toenails for years, though he is more infamously known as Sesshoumaru Takishima, a notoriously proficient operative for the specialized terrorism unit of the CIA and the son and heir of the great Western Taiyoukai, the Inu no Taisho of the Youkai Council of Nine, Toga Takishima. Has he never told you of his father? Of his numerous legion of valor awards? Or that he was knighted by the royal house of Britain for services rendered in the line of duty? Oh, my…He has been keeping things from you, hasn't he?"

"No." Kagome shook her head vehemently, even as her head reconciled fact with fiction. It fit too well, made too much sense, to discount. That didn't mean she wouldn't try. "You're lying."

"You'd rather he was married?" He took a loping step toward her. "At least this way his lies are not with out noble cause. You're Sesshou is an international hero. A hero with noble blood: a Lord among youkai, Nightingale."

"Don't move," she barked, squeezing the slack off the trigger. Naraku smirked, but stayed where he was. "Not another step."

"You would think a man like him, powerful by both blood and deed, would be more intelligent than to garner such an obvious weakness."

"What weakness?"

"Why, _you,_ of course." He tisked. "For such an intelligent girl, you are foolishly stupid when it comes to him, aren't you?"

Kagome's arm jerked, her muscles protesting as she struggled to hold the gun level.

"Do you hear it now? The beauty of the song I've written for you?"

Kagome's mouth opened in a soundless protest, but closed it almost immediately with a snap, water pooling over her tongue as she fought the urge to vomit.

"He will be forced to submit, to hand a weapon of unimaginable potential over to his enemy in exchange for one, insignificant human woman. How far the mighty will fall, how low he will bend his neck in shame. He will resent you for the rest of his life." His fingers popped, lengthened, and curved into a parody of human-fleshed talon's. "But don't concern yourself overly much; his life will be even shorter than yours once the Shikon is in my possession."

"You're sick." Kagome found her voice finally, screaming over the cacophony in her head. "You're doing all this for some twisted form of revenge? Just to make Sesshou suffer?"

"Sesshoumaru," he corrected. "Or Lord Sesshoumaru, among certain circles."

"You'll never get away with this," she vowed, her voice was thick and hoarse, her tongue sticking to the roof of her suddenly too dry mouth. "He _will_ stop you. He'll tear you apart."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll try." He shifted his body weight forward and back, as if working up the momentum to move toward her again. Her legs tried to carry her further away from him on instinct, but her back came up against the wall. Trapped.

"You're insane."

"Genius is often mistaken for insanity, Nightingale." His right foot slid forward across the gritty carpet, the bottom of his shoe scraping like sandpaper on metal.

"And delusions of grandeur often seem real to the schizophrenic's who live in them," she shot back, her voice hard and angry, undermined by the quivering hunch of her body behind the barrel of a gun. A gun that, judging by the vicious transformation Naraku was going through right before her eyes, wouldn't stop him for long, if at all.

His teeth snapped angrily, making her jump. "I will bring him lower than low, I will force his hand in suffering, and he will die knowing that _I_ was the victor in the end, and he can spend an eternity in hell, choking on the regurgitation of his own exquisite torment." He took a step forward, teeth bared, and hook-like fingers poised in threat. "And to think…I couldn't have done it with out you."

The bang made by the gun as it discharged made her scream, pressing herself against the cold, unyielding plaster of the wall behind her. She had only vaguely realized she was squeezing the trigger through the buzzing in her ears and the hot tingling that had engulfed her body.

The gag reflex was immediate and instinctual as her face and hands were splattered with the warm wetness of blood. Her eyes blinked slowly, moving from her trembling, blood-mottled hands still clutching the trigger tightly to the guard, to the gory destruction before her.

Her breath heaved painfully in her chest, shock gripping her like a vice as she stared at what she'd done. She had never shot a gun before, let alone shot an actual person, monster or otherwise, but she was fairly sure that _this_ was not supposed to happen.

A breeze sucked in through the gaping, hole the size of a VW bug in the wall across from her, swirling like a vacuum in the sudden change of pressure, and acting as if to pull her right out of the building with its grasping strength. It took her breath, tugging her hair forward on either side of her face and making the buckles of her jacket twist and clang together with the eerie melody of a wind chime.

There was little left of Naraku; his legs were relatively intact, but the rest of him was in meaty, blood-soaked chunks strewn about the room, some of them possibly having gone out the hole. His face was speckled and pasty where it clung weakly to a section of shoulder and bicep, eyes wide and mouth gaping in a paradox of shock and anger.

Kagome stepped forward before she could think better of it, driven by shock and a twisted sense of macabre curiosity. She knew he was dead. What she didn't know was how one little bullet had caused the kind of destruction reserved for bazookas and rocket launchers.

And what had been up with the glowing? The memory, even in the immediate aftermath, was muddled and blurry from shock and adrenaline, but she was sure her hands had been glowing, flickering as if ablaze with some ethereal fire. They seemed normal enough now, if she looked past the oozing streaks of blackened crimson.

What had she done?

The thought was punctuated with a gurgling gasp. She screamed when a disembodied hand curled weakly around her ankle. Naraku's mouth shuttering out a wetly snarled "_Bitch,_" the sound barely more than a whisper over her own screams.

With out thought, Kagome fired off two more rounds, the first punching a neat hole in the monster's forehead about the diameter of a pencil eraser, the second scouring a slanted tear in the forearm near her foot. Both body parts fell immediately still. She kicked the severed arm away from her and watched with coiled readiness for any of his other disembodied pieces to attack.

Nothing moved.

And the bullets had simply done what they were supposed to do, punching neat, life-severing little holes in Naraku's quickly cooling flesh, rather than exploding on contact like nitroglycerine on a store of combustibles.

With an exaggerated slowness, as if moving to quickly would disturb the sleeping dragon, she moved to peer out the hole at a hundred foot drop to a street below that seemed on the verge of chaos. There were people screaming, running as sirens wailed in the nearing distance, and some that seemed just as frozen with shock as she felt.

And even though she knew they couldn't see her all the way up there, it still felt like they were pointing right at her when their hands raised to direct the gazes of others to the mayhem at the top of the Carrington building.

Pointing out what she'd done with accusation in their unflinching eyes, signaling her out as if _she _were the _monster_ rather than the brave knight.

Oh, God. What had she done?

Footsteps on the landing had her spinning, leveling the gun defensively even before the door was flung open by the elegant looking woman fetched her water earlier. Dark eyes swept over the carnage, flickering with surprise and what unmistakably looked like hope, before dimming in resignation and settling on the quivering, blood soaked form of Kagome.

Kagome didn't give her the chance to speak, ordering her against the wall. The woman picked her way carefully through the chunks of flesh until she was standing away from the door with her arms raised in a gesture of surrender. It clashed with the caustic look twisting her pretty features.

"D-don't move," Kagome commanded, her voice not nearly as bold as she would have liked.

"Wouldn't dream of it," the woman replied dryly, rolling her eyes in a way that had Kagome feeling ridiculously out of place, as though _she_ was the one with the upper hand.

Still, the woman made no move to stop her as she backed out the door. Kagome had no desire to kill anyone else, but she was frightened, pushed back to the very fringe of her sanity, so she kept the gun leveled at the woman until her feet scraped on the bare concrete of the landing.

With a last, wild-eyed glance at the woman standing placidly in the midst of Naraku's gory remains, Kagome turned and bolted, running as if the hounds of hell themselves were at her heels.

She was a murder now. For all she knew, they could be.

* * *

P.S. The Archangel got nominated for best AU on a Single Spark! Yea!


	12. Unrelenting Destiny

**AN: **Sorry this is so late guys...Jazzy's been super busy, so I'll post the beta'd chapter when I get it, but I wanted to post anyway so I hope its not too awful. I'll try to be quicker with the next chapter.

**

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**The Archangel**

_By: Undecidedlycertain_

**Chapter 12**

_Unrelenting Destiny_

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**New York City, Long Island Sound**

**Project Miasma, Underground Headquarters**

**Sunday, June 19th 6:30 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

**38 Hours, 15 Minutes until Archangel Release**

"You're awfully glib for a man about to lose his will to live."

The gleaming edge of Sango's blade flickered in the glow of the overhead light as she teased it closer to the genitals of the man bound and prostrate at her feet.

"I'm telling you," he sneered, squinting up at her through the puffy blackness of two swollen eyes. "I don't know anything."

"And I'm telling you..." The ripping of cloth sounded extraordinarily loud as the tip of her knife cut through the seamed crotch of his camouflage pants. "I don't believe you."

"Better to just talk to the lady already," Miroku said with a sigh from his seat in the corner where he lounged on a rusted out folding chair, watching the proceedings with personal interest. "She has been known to be quite irrational when she doesn't get what she wants."

Another rip, followed by a wince and a whimper, not of pain yet, but of fear of impending pain. Oh, and it would hurt: Sango would make sure of that.

"Hm? What was that? Did you suddenly remember something?" Sango's voice was warm despite the cold, calculated violence she was threatening with the utmost intentions of following through.

Their prisoner remained silent, his lips pressing firmly in a thin white slash across his face. Sango met Miroku's eyes over the man's head. He was an elemental youkai of some sort, and potentially could have caused them a bit of trouble had they not taken him unaware and used his great oaf of a brother as leverage.

Having Sesshoumaru on their team was also a plus. The man could wilt flowers from fifty paces with no more than a glance.

Imperceptibly, Miroku nodded. With a flick of her wrist, the waist-length braid of shining onyx hair was severed so close to his scalp that it bled. He hissed his displeasure as the luxurious rope was pooled before his face in a taunting coil.

"We can take care of the rest of that for you as well," Miroku baited, straight faced and expectant. This man, be he youkai or not, was exceedingly vain. It was evident from the way he carried himself to the obvious pains he took in his grooming. "It would be quaint, matching your brother and all." He made an exaggerated nod to the saggy lump hunched unconscious in the corner.

"Can't guarantee my handy-work, though," Sango admitted off-handedly while running her free hand through the loose thatch of uneven hair at the front of his head. "Shaky hands."

She gave him a not-so-gentle tug to emphasize her words, jerking his chin off the floor and nearly making Miroku wince in sympathy. The woman could be ruthless when the situation called for it. Damn, but it was a turn on.

"Mmm. Yes, that could be a problem," Miroku mused as if to himself, though his tone said quite clearly that he expected to be overheard. "But it's doubtful that you'd lose more than an ear." He paused thoughtfully, fore finger tapping against his chin. "Not much more, at least."

"Or perhaps we should start by practicing somewhere less…_noticeable_." Sango offered, ripping a wide rent in his pants to reveal a shiny pair of red underwear. "Bikini…How very predictable."

Sango smirked deliciously when he whimpered, scraping his forehead against the concrete in a way that made him look like a rabid animal. He was caving. Miroku grinned back at her, their eyes connecting with a savage heat as he nodded for her to keep pushing him. If his assessments were correct, and they usually were, he would spill like a fourteen-year-old boy in a Victoria's Secret dressing room with little to no bloodletting.

"So," Sango purred, cutting the seam of his skivvies with a flash of movement that provided only enough pressure to let him know she was quite serious about giving him a shave, "how 'bout it?"

"Ok! Ok! I'll talk, you sick little bitch." He squirmed, trying to put some distance between his goulash and Sango's knife. Sango sat back on her heels, a victorious smirk in place that made her look positively catty.

"When did Naraku vacate the premises?" Miroku asked with perfunctory assuredness, his voice straight and solid as they got down to business.

"How the hell should I know," the semi-pant less and now balding elemental spat, a disgusted look on his face "do you think he would have left me behind if I was important enough to run his schedule by?" His eyes turned disparagingly on the pile of hair in front of his nose. "Damn! You skanky bitch! Did you have to cut off my hair?"

"Watch your mouth." Miroku's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was not an idle threat, which the elemental seemed to realize as his eyes immediately swung away from Sango's lithe, if a bit grubby, form. "Now, where would Naraku go to lay low until the exchange."

The elemental youkai flashed an exaggerated dead-pan look at Miroku before clicking his tongue. "Oh, he has a house in the Hamptons," he then murmured under his breath "Idiot."

The whistling of a knife cutting through air gave only momentary notice before the blade sunk into the exposed plane of his shoulder to the hilt. It would have been mildly amusing to watch him scream like a little girl had they not been on a crunch for time. As it was, Miroku settled back with a benign smile, his fingers folded comfortably over his chest as he waited.

"You were saying?"

"_Shit!" _he hissed in high pitched disbelief, "You crazy bitch! You're all a bunch of sick fuckers! You hear me? I'll kill you fuckers for this! I'll –"

Sango pulled a second knife from the holster strapped to her thigh, twirling it with haphazard grace between long, deft fingers, effectively cutting off the stream of filth spewing from the hostage's mouth.

"There are a couple places I know of," he admitted reluctantly, his face a clear mask of disgust.

"Yes?" Miroku prompted evenly, assured in the fact that his calm demeanor was infuriating their hostage. The man was scraping his forehead against the floor again, for God sakes! "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Another of Sango's knives flew, plunking with a soundless threat into the coil of hair in front of his nose.

"I said there's a place in Toronto, Canada, and a ship called the _Dante_, but it's docked for repairs.

"Anything a bit more local?" Miroku didn't like where this was heading. If this guy couldn't offer anything more substantial, then they were back to square one.

"Nothing underground. Not that I know of anyway. He's got the guy putting up the new Carrington building by the balls, Carrington Towers or something like that. Lower East Side. Down town, near the river."

Miroku nodded indolently. "Excellent. Thanks so much for your cooperation."

Then his eyes rolled back into his head with a slurred "_bitch_" when the heel of Sango's steel reinforced boot relieved him of his consciousness.

"Now that was a bit harsh, my luscious nymph," Miroku accused with a teasing smile.

Sango tch'd and booted the unconscious demon in the botchy bald spot on the back of his head for good measure. "Cutting off his balls might have been harsh. _Might_ being the operative word."

"Ouch." Miroku mocked a wince, the smile still broadly etched across his face.

"Hn." Sango spun on her heels, breezing out the door with a nod to Sesshoumaru as they brushed past one another. Sesshoumaru barely cut his eyes at her, but Miroku caught the re-evaluation in his glance.

"You heard?" Miroku asked with out preamble.

"Yes."

"I would presume Canada would be an unlikely candidate, but that leaves the ship and the Carrington construction. I'll get Shippo on the horn. He'll have the choppers in the air over the sound and the coast guard running a full sweep of the grid in the next twenty minutes. We can have locals run a check on the place in Toronto just to be sure. It wouldn't hurt to shut down his operations over there anyways."

Sesshoumaru nodded his approval, his glare burning into the lump of disfigured youkai flesh in the corner, a pathetic attempt at a human guise. He bore the faintest hint of Kagome's scent about him, still detectable, old and degenerated as it was. It confirmed her presence here, even if her stay had been brief.

Miroku sighed, slapping a sutra on the unconscious youkai's bald patch to ensure that his nap would be nice and long. He rocked back on the balls of his feet, balancing his weight on his haunches as his quick mind ran over scenarios and strategies. "It would be foolish to assume these to be his only hide outs, but it's best to take our leads as they come."

"Agreed." Sesshoumaru turned toward the door as the urge to tear the subdued youkai apart for simply having come in contact with Kagome teased his vision with the all encompassing red haze. "I will take the Carrington Tower myself, while your team holds here until the cleaners arrive."

"Yes, but are you sure you should be going on your own." He didn't dare say it, but it was tactfully clear that Miroku was alluding to Sesshoumaru's current tentative hold on his control. "I could accompany you. Sango is more than capable of holding this position."

"Not necessary." Sesshoumaru said coldly, his face turned upward to the ceiling as his senses fanned out slightly. One sharp golden eye cut to the side to regard Miroku with calm integrity. "This Sesshoumaru has need for neither babysitter nor bodyguard." His look shifted to reflect something that could almost be misconstrued as regret in another man. "But your concern is unnecessary. My youki has…stabilized."

Miroku nodded, feeling a touch of mute shock at getting something that so resembled an explanation from the immovably proud youkai.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Erm. Ok then. We will radio ahead when we're on our way to your location."

Sesshoumaru nodded curtly, heading out the door. He stopped in the doorway, calling out "Houshi" as an afterthought in his deep baritone.

"Sir?"

"Shower first."

Then he was gone. Miroku stared at the empty doorway for a moment with a gaping incredulity coloring his features. As long as he had known the man, Sesshoumaru Takishima had been a serious man – stoic and professional to a fault. Even after he started seeing Kagome, though he'd lightened up almost imperceptibly in some ways, he had become more intense than ever in others. He didn't go out for drinks after missions. He didn't joke around with his teammates, not even to alleviate tension in a bad situation. Always serious – always at face value.

But that…that little _quip_ had sounded suspiciously like a friendly jibe. The kind of teasing exchanged between friends, or at least people he didn't intend to kill any time in the near future.

_Quite unexpected_, Miroku thought with a ghost of a smile, his lips lifting at the cosmic irony of it. When threatened with the loss of his lover and the complete devastation of society as a whole, the immovable rock reveals a chink in his armor.

Miroku almost felt bad for Naraku. He didn't suspect there would be enough left of him interrogate when this was all over. _Almost_ was a very broad term, however.

"Just don't forget to get the antidote first." He spoke quietly, his thoughts echoing off the bare concrete walls like a prayer. Miroku didn't even want to consider the consequences.

* * *

**New York City, Brooklyn **

**5****th**** Street Subway Station **

**Sunday, June 19****th****, 9:15 p.m. Eastern Standard Time**

**35 Hours, 30 Minutes until Archangel Release**

Kagome hugged her arms across her chest self-consciously, trying to conceal the jangling straps and buckles that dangled from her grungy, blood speckled straight jacket, She was taking pains to remain as inconspicuous as possible, hoping to simply disappear into the push and pull of the thinning crowd as she hunched in on herself.

She felt acutely paranoid of eyes watching her, mostly imagined she was sure, but it made the back of her neck and arms itch and her ears burn hotly under the curtain of her lank, greasy hair.

Somewhere at the back of her mind she realized she was running blind, trying to put as much distance between herself and the scene of her crime as possible. Yet, her selfish mind was already running through the rationalization of what she'd done. He was a criminal, a terrorist. He was threatening her, threatening the whole city with the ramifications of his ambition…it was self-defense…it was pro-active citizenship. She was a hero, not a…a _murderer_.

Now she just had to keep repeating it over and over until it was true.

Kagome glanced at the scrolling neon sign proclaiming that the East bound train would be heading for Queens in the next five minutes. She had no money, no plastic, and no ID, having been stripped of all personal effects before being shoved in her cell, but for some reason they had left her subway pass in the pocket of her jeans. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she had headed straight for the nearest junction.

But now if felt as if she were at a bit of a stale mate, unsure of where she should go, or what she should do at this point. Should she contact someone? And if so, who? The police? The FBI? HASMAT? Sesshou?

After a few moments of indecisive lingering in one of the darker recesses of the station like a frightening specter, she had to accept that standing there swaying on her feet and mumbling to herself in a straight jacket wasn't doing anything for her perceived sanity, and was sure to draw some seriously unwanted attention if she didn't snap out of it. There was a line of payphones just down the way, set back in dirty blue and gray graffiti covered stalls in a paltry attempt at privacy.

The first two lines had been severed at the box, the curling cords dangling limply from finger-smudged receivers. The third was completely empty, the box having been ripped from the wall with only a few jutting wires to show that a phone had ever been there to begin with. Also, it had apparently been used as an impromptu toilet. Thankfully the fourth seemed intact. The stench was abhorrent though.

Kagome cast a paranoid glance around her before using her back as a shield against prying eyes as she lifted the heavy black receiver from its cradle. It was revoltingly greasy, but now was not the time to be concerned with such petty matters a hygiene. More importantly, the line clicked loudly as a dial tone bleeped in her ear.

Her hands were shaking. Kagome had to clench her fist a few times to steady herself enough to punch in the memorized numbers of her calling card, and then, haltingly, Sesshoumaru's cell phone. There were a few tense moments of silence as the call was connected, during which Kagome tried to huddle as much of herself out of sight behind the Plexiglas blinders as possible.

It rang four times before her own happy voice chimed in a cheery greeting, announcing that the caller had reached Sesshou Tadiama etc…ad nauseum… It would have been comforting except for the fact that the cheerful woman on his voicemail didn't seem like her any longer, almost seemed that it had never been her to begin with…It was all falsehood and pretense, not even his name was real, and poor naive Kagome had bought into it like a fool.

She sighed loudly at the beep, taking a moment before she could speak. What was she supposed to say? _I know you're a big fat liar, but how bout we call a truce for now and you come save my sorry tail._ It was one thing for the bravado to rage around the inside like a ruffled hen, but it was quite another to get it out.

"S-sess – ," she finally started in a voice entirely too meek to be her own, "Sesshoumaru, its Kagome." She used his real name, or rather his full name she supposed. She just couldn't stomach the thought of stringing along under pretext a moment longer. Her breathing was harsh in the receiver, probably gratingly so, but she couldn't seem to rein in control. "I-I'm in trouble. I don't know what to do." She sucked in a shuttered sigh. "I'm at the 5th street tunnel station. I don't know where to go. I j-just – " the phone bleeped, signaling that she'd taken too long.

Slowly, with quaking hands, she hung up the receiver. She was crying, sobbing actually, and she had no one else to turn to. She didn't want her mother involved, and none of her friends were close enough to be trusted with something so important – so personally devastating.

The rattling rumble of the 9:20 train shook the stagnant air in the tunnel as it groaned to a stop at the platform. It wouldn't be there long, she needed to decide.

With a quick swipe over her cheeks with the backs of her grubby hands, Kagome gathered her arms around herself and turned to scramble toward the train. It seemed that there were a lot of people gathered on the platform suddenly, all eager to board the East bound.

She hesitated at the prospect of joining the queue, the thought of being crammed in a car with so many people to stare at her, to realize what she was wearing – what she had done, making her jerk to a halt. Maybe the train wasn't such a good idea. Maybe she should just walk.

It didn't matter that it was dangerous to walk alone at night: she still had the gun.

Someone jostled her shoulder, causing her to have to shuffle sideways to maintain her balance with out compromising the protective position of her arms.

"Excuse me." A young woman in a worn knit cap apologized with an earnest smile before heading along hurriedly to the train.

The little girl being tugged along behind by the hand watched Kagome with smooth, coco-colored cheeks and a wide grin, trusting in her mother to guide her safely through the swarm of bodies. Her beautiful dark eyes were sparkling and alive, even in the dim yellowed fluorescence cast by the dirty halogen bulbs overhead, and Kagome felt transfixed to watch until she disappeared behind the sliding metal door of car one.

_After 48 hours the virus will spread like wild fire._ Naraku's voice haunted her, taunting the darkened recesses of her mind. _Millions of innocent people_…

Dear God…what was she doing? This was no time for self-pity: she had to go away, someplace far away from other people.

That clock had read 37 hours over an hour ago…she was running out of time.

With that thought pounding against the inside of her skull like a fist, Kagome turned and ran, shouldering her way past work weary travelers in her haste to be clear of the fetid, stagnant train tube.

But even once she had reached the darkened street above, she still ran, her shoes pounding an unsteady rhythm on the sidewalk. Even if she ran, nothing would change. Even if she locked herself away in some secluded hole to die alone, the virus would spread and people would die.

Oh yes, this was quite the song Naraku had composed for her: a lamentation of death.

No matter what, she was going to die. Now it was up to her to decide whether she would die alone, or take countless innocents down with her.

* * *

**Thanks to you all! I promise, there is much action, much suspense, and much luv'in to come! R&R!**


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